Author's note:
Written for the Sterek Haven Big Bang 2015. Some limited dialogue, primarily in centered text, is borrowed directly from the Final Fantasy XIII trilogy. Initial beta by the lovely apinkducky, but I did a lot after her last round of edits, so throw your pitchforks at me. Can be read without prior knowledge of Final Fantasy XIII-it'll just be awesome and nerdtastic if you've played.
Prologue - The Bars Are Melting, Cinderella Girl
Laura is twenty two years old and in love and happy. She's a few weeks away from graduating with her bachelors, her boyfriend came home with her for the weekend, and it's the night of the Beacon Hills Spring Fling dance, the biggest public dance in Beacon Hills.
Laura has a good life, an easy one. She's happy where she is.
Her happiness doesn't last. Neither does her peace.
The first thing she thinks about when it happens is the fact that her mother took great pride in a killer pair of high heels.
Being a werewolf has a lot of drawbacks and a lot of perks, and that's the one thing that runs through her mind right then.
High heels never hurt for long when you were a werewolf. The strain of wearing them never lasts long.
Her mother lends her a pair of strappy black heels, her absolute favorite pair. She brushes her bangs away and kisses her forehead with a gentle press of her lips.
"Have fun, Princess. Look out for your brother."
And then, she walks away from her mom and bullies her brother into driving so she could make out with Ashton in the backseat.
And two hours later, she stands stock still in the middle of a dance floor in her mother's heels and feels the sudden rush of power flow through her veins and knows.
Her mother loved wearing high heels. She loved being powerful and she loved her children.
And now her mother is dead.
Derek. Where is Derek?
Ashton lays a hand on her shoulder, says something softly. She doesn't know what the words are; they sound foreign to her ears.
"Derek. Derek. Derek."
She could feel the crack of her knuckles as her claws beg to come free and her jaw aches with the dropping of her fangs.
"Derek!"
She fists her fingers against her sides and hangs her head until her hair falls across her face. Everything hurts.
"Laura? Laura, calm down. What's wrong, Laura?"
-x-
The memories don't come all at once. The first one comes that night, when she slumps against Derek in the backseat of the police cruiser sitting on the edge of their property.
There's a little kid in the front seat, hair buzzed short against his head. His face is pressed up against the grate, his brown eyes wet with unshed tears.
And she knows who he is.
Stiles. Brave child, strong willed and bright.
She could remember when she saw him for the first time. Trailing along after Derek, a twisted metal bar resembling a baseball bat strapped to his back.
She could remember the first time he saw her, how brave he and Derek had both been as they fought against her.
As she pledged her service to Derek...
"My dad's gonna find out what happened. He's the best cop in the world."
She pounds against the door until the kid releases the automatic lock and she stumbles out on her hands and feet, throwing up all over the gravel of her long driveway.
-x-
The thing about it is, she doesn't figure out what is going on for a long time.
It's easy to blame it all on the new power inside her, blame the waking dreams and painful nightmares on the tragedy of what had happened to her family.
But with time, things become clearer.
She remembers two lives. She remembers being born of Derek's brand, her power unfurling with the ink black on his skin. She remembers fading, her head screaming with pain when he completes his focus and the world is saved. And she remembers being brought back by the hands of the prophetess, the last one-the final one. She remembers the way the sun felt on her feathers, the way it felt to feel the wind under her wings, and the way it felt to help Derek one last time.
And Derek saved her. Derek gave her a soul, or perhaps more accurately, uncovered hers.
Whatever it was that brought their souls to this earth, that gave them new life here? It was because of him. Because of her brother and his friends.
She is so indescribably proud of him, and she couldn't tell him.
He wouldn't understand. Not now. Perhaps not ever.
-x-
New York is nothing like Pulse, nothing like the Wildlands. It's concrete and metal and the air didn't taste fresh.
She loves it.
Derek doesn't.
Derek doesn't like a lot of things. He doesn't like the way it smelled or taking the self defense classes or how crowded his college campus is.
But he likes being useful, likes spending time with her. She can't get him to go out much, but that is okay.
The more she remembers, the less she wants him hurt.
-x-
And then, the photocopied report comes in the mail. Slightly wrinkled, the ink worn at the folds.
She knows what it meant, what it means.
She packs a bag and heads back to Beacon Hills. Back to clean air and trees and the sickly sweet scent that Peter gives off.
And something in her chest feels off, something more than the twinge of pain from leaving Derek behind or the heartache of breaking up with the man she loves before she leaves.
She's certain she's heading to her death.
-x-
When his teeth rip into her flesh, she finally knows what it means. That smell.
But it's too late.
"You'll never win," she gasps.
And she knew no more.