Title: Humanity
Summary: She's battling hormones, keeping her sexual relationship with her neighbor a secret, trying to ace her classes, AND dealing with the town's secrets, along with some of her family's own. Alyssa Chase never thought returning to her father's hometown would change as much as it if she can't keep up?
Pairing: Starts off OC/Stiles, but pairing with later change.
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.
Special Thanks to my beta Susiesamurai on tumblr
Chapter One: Starting New
Soft lips pressed against mine, a hand on the back of my neck, pulling me impossibly closer. All I can smell is his aftershave and I can't think. I press my body to his. It was like I was trying to dissolve into his existence. The feeling of someone who wanted me, and the warmth in my body, the curl of my toes. I'd never been kissed before.
His hand drifted to the small of my back and I ran mine through his hair, vaguely wondering if he found it annoying or not. He pulled away, resting his forehead on mine, and shuddered breaths were all that could be heard. Mine, or his? I don't know. I took the opportunity to survey my surroundings, turning my head from my slightly trapped position.
We were behind foliage against some brick, hiding it seemed. I could see unfamiliar halls and other people my age. This was risky business.
A school?
My teeth chattered nervously, my lips falling apart naturally, and before I realized what I was doing I had initiated the next kiss. I jumped straight to tongue, massaging and curling mine around his, a surprised moan coming from this stranger in response that set my soul on fire. I liked it.
"Hey, Alyssa. Wake up, kiddo, we're here."
Gentle shaking on my shoulders, a dribble of drool sliding down my chin, my hand awkwardly cramping in pain from being pressed behind my back since I'd accidentally fallen asleep. As though someone had poured ice water over me, I became aware. My older sister, Daya, was waking me. We were both sat in the back of a yellow taxi that reeked of some kind of food that I could not place.
I let out a roar of a yawn and wiped away the drool, my dream already put behind me with the aspects of the day to come.
"I'm up, I'm up."
As I spoke Daya reached a tan hand forward and pressed a wad of cash in the driver's hand, so I grabbed the door handle and pushed, rising to my wobbly feet.
Moving to Beacon Hills was terrifying. As long as I didn't ponder on it too much then I was fine, but...Daya and I had been living in New Orleans with our mother before this, before the accident. Goosebumps ran up my spine and saliva pooled in my mouth, disgust forming a nasty ball in my chest.
It was an average Wednesday when I returned home from my photography class, Daya in tow, having picked me up. We arrived at our two story, white, worn down house, only to find it taped with police banners with the street littered with cop cars.
They'd found that our mother had hung herself, from the juniper tree in our backyard. Our neighbor saw her from the window and called it in.
"Hey, slacker, remember we have bags we have to get?" Daya's voice startles me out of my thoughts and I nod my head, rolling my eyes with a grimace and attempting to move past it, literally and mentally. I sauntered to the back of the cab, meeting up with her as we grabbed our suitcases.
We'd spent about a year in New Orleans after that while Daya tried to battle for custody of me, since she had turned eighteen a month before the accident. The court was indecisive. On the one hand, they didn't know of any other family to send us to, but on the other, she worked at a Weiner Dog shop that could barely support her Sephora bills, let alone the two of us.
It ended, however, when a woman in Beacon Hills was scrolling online and wandered across the headline of our mother's death, and came forward claiming to be our mother's sister, who was going to raise us in our fathers house, his last asset which had been left to our Uncle supposedly.
"It's been decided, you will be going and moving in with your Aunt and Uncle in Beacon Hills."
And here we are.
Mom never ever spoke about our dad. Any reference to him and she would spend the next week practically locked in her room, only coming out to sip tea sadly in the nook of our kitchen. Whenever we asked what was wrong, she would say nothing, and give us some kind of hybrid of a frown and a smile. Eventually Daya and I stopped bringing him up.
So this is where my dad grew up. This is where he met mom, this is his house.
With a particularly heavy green bag resting upon my shoulder, I turned my gaze. The house we'd arrived at was large. Two stories, like our old one, but much bigger in width and general size. On the second floor there was a huge window with a room that looked like it protruded from the top. The house itself was a faded blue that looked like it had been very vibrant at one point.
Before I could continue my observations, the front door opened, the screen releasing a scream that drew my attention. Oh god. My Aunt and Uncle. What if they were crazy? Or strict? Or weird? Or didn't like us? What if they weren't even our actual Aunt and Uncle and had just acted like it so they could get two teenage girls to slave around the house?
An abrupt hit to my shoulder caused my head to snap to the side, I glared at my sister.
Her hazel eyes rolled and she sneered at me.
"Shove much?" I hissed.
"You keep drifting off like mom used to do."
Her reply floors me and I shut right up, lips pursed, arms crossing over my chest. I feel kind of naked now. She'd noticed and I hadn't. Our mother used to do this thing where some days she'd do everything she normally did, but...she wasn't there. It didn't feel like it at least. As kids we would chit chat and talk about what we thought she may have been thinking about, but the older we got, the more alarming and annoying it became.
"Girls!"
I hear my Aunt's voice and every one of my doubts disappears. She's got blonde hair, and her eyes are exact replicas of our mothers, except she has a little spark, a glimmer in the back of them that mom's lacked and it gives me hope. Her entire demeanor is nice. From her floral print dress to her pretty red lips.
The second she meets our strides, she wraps her arms around us, enveloping us in a hug.
I cringe, having not been hugged in a while. Our Aunt smells like cigarettes and honey. It's a really strange mixture of a scent that I don't necessarily like or dislike. Instead, I eye the man behind her.
Our Uncle has the makings of a beard, with short brown locks, and a warm smile on his face that really reveals his laugh lines under the afternoon sun.
He doesn't look like family at all. His eyes are crystal and blue, calm like little drops from the ocean, narrow, so unlike mine and my sister's wide brown orbs. Faintly, I wonder what it's gonna be like living here. In my dad's town, my dad's house, with these complete strangers. Well...not everything was foreign.
The man...my Uncle may not have looked at all like us, but...Aunt Felicity (as I recalled her name) was the spitting image of our mother. Mom's hair was darker, a more salt and pepper kind of vibe, where as the woman before me was platinum from root to tip. But I could see it on her face. The splash of freckles, the exact same eyes all the women on my mom's side carried, her button nose. She was a piece of my mom.
A lot of the time when Daya and I were growing up, we would notice when mom would look at us and see nothing but our father. How could we not? It was usually with tears in her eyes and a frown that broke my little heart. The only thing we'd received from her was our eyes and our jawlines. But our skin, our hair, I can even recall one time laughing and her running to her room and sobbing for hours.
"I'm sorry, you're just so much like your father" she said to me that night while cutting me an apology slice of cake. Mom always could cook.
I blinked three times, hard, pressing my lashes down, and ignoring the look my Uncle shot me as I pulled back from Felicity. Focus. Stay in reality. Don't be like mom.
The fact that I was mentally scolding myself was sad.
"It's so good to finally meet you" she leaned in again, too fast for me to avoid when I was so caught up in myself, and peppered some very uncomfortable kisses to my forehead. Wow. Wow. Wow. I held in my cringe, not wanting to be rude to my new family members. I got it. She was just one of those people, the touchy ones. I needed to get over it.
Daya didn't looks so displeased with the action, and I faintly wondered if it was because Aunt Felicity reminded her of mom. I cocked my head, my brow slightly raising as a genuine grin appeared on my sister's face...well...anyways..I decided to ignore it before I got too bitter over the fact that she could be so okay with a new place so fast. That could be a good thing...I guess.
"Come on, come on, give your Uncle Reese your bags, they must be heavy!"
Said man stepped forward, instantly grabbing the duffel and rolling luggage that Daya passed to him. I paused giving him a suspicious look that didn't exactly go missed...by anyone. He shuffled in front of me, his last free hand outstretched for mine.
Was he the type of adult to go through my things?
This would be a test then of whether or not I would like it here. I handed him by bag eventually, turning my gaze to the house and trying to smile a bit so they didn't think I was mad or something. I tended to have a bitch face, as many of my friends pointed out over the years, growing.
Aunt Felicity led the way, with a cheerful tour guide voice, and Daya followed like a moth to a flame. She had taken quite the liking to our Aunt. You could see it in the way she followed at her heels, the way she payed so much attention, eyes wide and taking in Aunt Felicity's every word. I would ask her about it later. Uncle Reese and I stalked slowly behind them with bored looks on our faces that I wish I could say didn't look similar.
Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I tried desperately to ignore our similarities in personality.
Upon entering their home, we were hit with the smell of baking. Felicity didn't seem the type but I didn't question it, enjoying the scent of...cookies? My nose twitched and my mouth watered. Chocolate sounded delicious and I hadn't eaten since before the flight.
The living room was lit up with a fire, light brown wooden floors that shined brightly, and two long blood red couches that looked like you could fall into them. Note to self, ask what they do for a living. Everything looked..picturesque. The kitchen was fancy, with white tiles, eggshell walls, an island, and a beautiful steel fridge.
It was like feel of a cabin shoved into a modern day home, if I were to put it in words.
I slid a hand along the walls as I trailed down a longer hall. Uncle Reese had taken it upon himself to show me to my room while Aunt Felicity helped Daya get settled. It seemed we were very quickly pairing off.
I raised a brow and resisted the urge to analyze him, staying in my strides. I still hadn't decided whether or not I trusted him. The sooner I got settled, the sooner I could breath again.
"Don't look so nervous, I think you're gonna like your room. Don't tell your Aunt I told you but it used to be your fathers."
My lengthy steps faltered and my mouth opened an inch. I swallowed, trying to speed up before he noticed, and reaching his side, hands dropping from the wall to curl at my sides.
"My dad's?" my heart felt like it was skipping at the idea. I wasn't sure how I felt. I didn't know what he looked like, or much about him, just his name, and a locket somewhere in my bag that I'd carried with me since I could remember. Mom just said he left it to me. She refused to elaborate any further when I later pestered her.
And now I would be sleeping in the room he grew up in? This was basically as close as I could get to him, considering he was...deceased? I wasn't sure. Sometimes Mom would say he left us, sometimes she would say he died. It varied over the years.
...Good 'ole Ma. Even despite her flaws, I still wished she was there to hold my hand.
"Yep. 'We' didn't think" he raised air quotes "it would be fair to tell you two. Didn't want you to fight over it. So you didn't hear it from me" he raised a finger to his lips, and grinned.
I like him. This is my Uncle Reese. He's funny.
Decided on that, at least… . I shrugged his heavy hand off my shoulder and walked ahead of him to the dark wooden door we were approaching that would lead to my father's room, my room.
"Ladies first" My Uncle, the gentleman, pushed open the door, standing just enough back for me to walk in. Deep breath, Alyssa. What if I find stuff I don't like about him? Have they cleaned it at least? I'm not going to find his porn stash from he was a teenager if I look around will I?
I was terrified and excited for what I would find, but that last one was nightmare scenario number one in my head. I shivered and stepped in, the wood creaking under my boot. I glanced down, watching as it screeched, not wanting to look back up.
Until I did.
What?
"This is it?"
The room was not what I was expecting. It was plain to be honest. I'd been expecting to walk in and discover all the real facts about my father, who he really was, I mean once I was made up in a room for awhile, It became touched by me. You could learn a lot by most people's rooms.
...Guess my dad wasn't most people. I grimaced.
The walls were plain and black, with nothing on them, no paintings, no pictures, not a bulletin board, just blank. In the center of the room was a bed that..(I squinted) looked sealed to the floor? The bed frame was boxed and the ends seemed to come out of the floor. Other than that, there was a glass coffee table, and one wooden chair facing the only window.
"Was my dad some kind of minimalist?" I whirled around, not bothering to hide my confusion and disappointment, glaring questioningly at my Uncle "you don't care if I eventually redecorate, right?"
And by redecorate, I meant repaint, new furniture, some lights, basically a home depot and ikea haul to the maximum. This room was draining the life out of me just standing in it. I pursed my lip and rocked back and forth on my heels, waiting for Reese to reply.
He didn't look offended, which was good. I found it pretty easy to offend most people, so the bemused smirk on his face was promising.
"Of course not, it's all yours, Red" the nickname made my cheeks blaze red and a deep furrow appear in my brow. Kids in junior schooling called me that a term of...less-than-endearment if you get my flow. I wasn't bullied or anything, just the usual school teasing, nothing that serious. I didn't know where I got the colorful tint to my hair, Daya and my mother didn't have it.
Still, I sent him a deep frown, to which his smirk just grew. Of course.
Rolling my eyes, I released a sigh of relief, just glad that even though this blank slate I'd been given wasn't what I expected, I could at least mold it to what I wanted it to be.
"Okay so...keep it at Alyssa" I stayed still while he walked further in and towards the bed, moving to set down my bag "nicknames are so not my thing."
Uncle Reese snorted loudly "sure thing...Red."
Blonde hair, painted pink lips, pretty light brown eyes, a bored frown on the teens face as she scrolling on her phone, her facial features partially blocked by her feet which were kicked up on her computer table.
"Carter" I whined "pay attention to me."
My best friend in the whole world, stuck back in New Orleans, our lives torn apart by this move. Not entirely though. I would never let that happen. I'd known her since sixth grade, we could never be separated for real.
"Sorry, sorry, social media calls to me kid" she let out a noisy pop of her chewing gum and leaned in, offering me one of her famous smiles, the ones that sent all of our guy friends into a frenzy. She always had a way of looking anyone in the eye and melting their hearts. My best friend.
After Uncle Reese set my things down and he left me to my own devices, I'd stumbled down the hall to ask about that earlier scent of cookies, resulting with me in my room, a blanket wrapped around me like a poncho, a tray of mouth watering triple chocolate cookies next to my computer.
My grandma, though I never met her, on my mom's side must have taught my mom and Aunt how to cook, because their food tasted exactly the same. I faintly wondered why my mom never mentioned a sister. One of my many questions for later.
"So how is it in Beating Holes or wherever" Carter waved a hand.
The urge to correct her never surfaced so I just launched into the rant that I desperately needed to get out. I hadn't told anyone how I really felt about everything and now seemed as good a time as any.
"I don't know, C" I ran a hand through my short locks, letting my forehead slide down until it was fully resting on the cool glass of the table "my Aunt and Uncle seem cool, and Daya is as happy as could be about the move, but… I was hoping to find out more about my dad and now it feels like I know less than ever. Plus as cool as they are, they're strangers…"
There was a period of silence and then the sound of slamming and moving.
I looked up to see the blonde beauty throwing open random desk drawers, her back to the camera, clothing flying into the air, pens, and the like. I think I even saw a prehistoric game boy go.
"What are you looking for?" I pried, brows raised. I pulled the wool blanket I'd found over my shoulders and tighter, trying to warm myself up. My dad's room was hollow. It was freezing and I could hear everything in the house. The hallway seemed to add to the echo in my opinion.
"My notebook. The one with the pink h-"
I cut her off.
"Hearts? It's on the side of your bed, you dropped it down there last time I saw you use it."
A blonde blur shot across the screen as Carter seemingly flung her body onto her bed like a sack of potatoes, the sound of a bedspring cracking and some other things breaking hitting my ears for sure. Nice, C.
"The fact" she panted out of breath returning to her computer chair "that you know that and I don't is sad, Chase."
"Then pay more attention to your shit" I shrugged, popping a cookie in my mouth, physically melting at the chocolate goodness filling my mouth.
Carter pulled a sharpie from seemingly no-where.
"We're going to make a pro's list. An entire page full of reasons to be excited about that small town suicide net you're going to have to call home" her voice was high pitched and excited, her hands clapping together in her lap. She always did love little projects like this.
"If you think it will help."
Before Carter could respond, the sound of a door slamming open made me nearly drop my next grab of cookies. Someone had burst into her room. She turned from the computer and said something I couldn't make out before click the door was closed.
"Someone needs to teach Edna how to knock" the blonde beauty hissed with venom at the mention of her mother's best friend. She'd been staying with the Voelkel's (Carter's family) for two months, I'd met her a number of times, and she was insanely annoying. She was out of work, single, and crazy as a bat. Her whole family literally moved away from her and Carter's mom took her in. She's been driving my best friend out of her mind since.
"I have to go, apparently, but we can do this in the morning, or after your first day of school, 'kay?"
Her hand shot out to close the computer.
"Miss you!" I called as the video chat screen went black and the sound of a door slamming shut echoed around my empty surroundings.
"I'm not scared of you."
The words coming out of my mouth were not of my control. It felt like I was trapped in my body. I could control my hands, my head, but not my feet, my mouth. There was a man before me who I very well should have been terrified of. He looked furious. His eyes were like little bullets, glaring me down, his fists at his side, clenched so tight that the muscles littering his entire physique throbbed.
Tan, young, early twenties, with black hair, and the face of someone you didn't wanna piss off.
We seemed to be standing dead center in a house that had at one point been white but now was greying with ash and burn marks, holes in the walls, the floors, everywhere. A burnt down home and an angry adult male before me, with no control of myself. Fear seized me but not the body I was in.
My feet moved and I actually was cornering this overgrown beef cake. Daya would be proud.
"You know something" I declared, sounding a lot angrier than ever before, "you know something and you aren't telling me, Derek."
Derek. Beefcake's name is Derek.
Then a strange sensation filled my right hand. It didn't feel like anything I'd ever experienced. Words were hard to place to describe it and things were moving so quickly. It felt like I'd been rubbing my hands together and they were heating up, except in one hand, and a lot stronger.
My eyes shot down and my mouth popped open at the sight of a massive flame at my curled fingertips.
Derek noticed too and visibly tensed.
"Tell me what you know, I don't wanna have to use this."
And then if things couldn't get anymore strange, the man before me seemed to transform. That beastly fury in his face came to life. His lips raised, sharpened canines bared at me, and his eyes lit up with a bright unnatural blue tone that hadn't been there before. My heart raced but it didn't seem to bother whatever part of me that was attacking him.
"Take a step back, Red."
"I SAID NOT TO CALL ME RED!"
The anger in my voice as I burst up and out of my bed shook me to my core. I had no hold over myself, the words from the dream hurtling straight out of my throat like they had no-where else to be.
"Jeez, did I really piss you off that much?"
Oh my god. Oh. My. God. Thunder strike me now, please.
Uncle Reese stood in my doorway with a bemused look on his face, arms crossed over his chest, a furrow in his brow looking as innocent as could be. I'd just screamed at him. The comment wasn't directed toward him, but he had called me that earlier and we'd had a little fight over it. Not a real one, a playful one.
I doubted he thought it was though, just having been shouted at.
"I am so, so, so, so sorry!" I hissed, eyes watering from shock, guilt, and just plain tiredness. "Dude it was just from the nightmare I was having. It was really real. I don't even remember deciding to fall asleep…" I trailed off, scratching my head sheepishly, my body suddenly feeling like it had been hit by a truck.
"I get it, I get it, jet lag. Believe it or not but your father used to do that ALL the time. He was a big snoozer too. Maybe you guys have Narcolepsy" he seemed to be musing out loud, a glazed over look in his eyes. Reese certainly had my attention.
"So how did you know my father anyway? Did you, like, meet him through Aunt Felicity?" I questioned, hoping he didn't seem bothered too much by my slight interrogating.
Uncle Reese snorted, as if my suggestion was a joke, and came closer, plopping down on top of the coffee table. I had no doubt I would catch myself sitting on it in the future too, since there was so little furniture, so I held my tongue instead of scolding him.
"The opposite actually. I was your father's best friend, and right around the time he and your mother got married, let's just say my home life...changed...and I needed a place to stay" he shrugged and I didn't probe, not wanting him to stop. "After your mother left him, he got sick, and passed away. That's how your Aunt and I ended up getting this place...and now you girls."
A coldness was spreading through my chest. My mom left him? Why? Why didn't she ever tell us? Why did she get so sad over it all? I mean if she was the dumper and not the dumpee? She'd always spoken, acted, as if it wasn't her decision.
Now I'm hearing it was?
"Anyway, if we keep chit chatting about the past, Felicity is gonna come up here and kill us both. We have to get ready and go downstairs for dinner. "
I raised a brow, not wanting to get up.
"Tell you what, we can continue this conversation, I promise. And I never break a promise. Plus your Aunt is really excited. She's never had a big family to cook for before like she's always wanted."
Walking down the hall with questions in my head, a smell hit me in the face. Food. So many different types it all mixed together. I inhaled even deeper, a small smile on my face. Uncle Reese mirrored me. We shared a look before our paces increased dramatically.
The table was spread with so much food it looked like Thanksgiving.
Daya was setting the table in a new outfit, a red blouse, with long sleeves the exact same shade as her vibrant lipstick, and a pair of light grey yoga pants of some sort. She seemed to fit right in, like a piece missing from the house, the way she moved around the kitchen alongside Aunt Felicity who was wearing the same outfit as she was when we'd arrived.
My sister was good at cooking, I knew that, but she never enjoyed it.
"We made your favorites!" she chirped when she saw my face, a bright smile on hers.
Guess I was wrong.
Everything from hot wings to potato salad, from cheeseburgers to pastrami, the table was filled. There was enough chairs to sit like eight people, though it was just the four of us. Did they have people over often? I bit my lip and stumbled forward, past Uncle Reese and straight towards the seat closest to the hot wings.
"Yeah, I see that. You guys made the entire world's' favorite...damn" I received a sharp look from Aunt Felicity and a smirk from Reese. "Not that there can ever be too much food. Thank you."
Daya looked joyful as ever that I had said a full sentence in her presence.
The three of them took their respective seats, my sister on my right, and my new guardians before us. It was nice. There were no awkward pauses. I kept quiet, content with observing, and piling random spoonfuls of potato salad into my mouth. Their topics varied from when Reese would finally marry our Aunt officially, to Daya's search for a job, anything they could think of.
"I'll do the dishes" I stated, rising, the old wood from my seat screeching.
Reese met my rise with a hopeful look. "And I'll help." It wasn't a question.
I smiled. Maybe things in Beacon Hills wouldn't be so bad.