If I Ever Leave This World Alive

A Teen Wolf Original Character Fan Fiction

I woke up, for a moment I almost didn't remember what the day was. Had it all been a dream? A horrible nightmare? Then the pain hit, my chest heaved as the memory of my grandmother's body crumbling to the ground flashes into my mind. The tears sting in my blue eyes as I look at the canopy of my bed, staring straight ahead and letting them flow freely. The light from the morning sun could be seen in the cracks of my curtained four poster bed. It cast odd bluish shadows against the fabric, almost making it look like an eerie midnight sun. The thoughts continued to course and my heart was breaking all over again; she was gone.

I could hear my family shuffling down stairs, the sounds of people talking amongst themselves muffled by the floor beneath my feet. My telepathy on the other hand was picking up several trains of thought, people deep in grieving, memories of my grandmother, things they wished they had said, so much that I just didn't want or need in my head. Suddenly there was a brief rapping at my door, I didn't say anything. They knew I was in here, and it's not like I was going to be having sex right after the death of the most important person in my life. My thoughts were becoming harsher, finding some way to lash out to deal with the pain of my loss.

"Liam," called my mother's voice, oddly kind even considering the circumstances, "We need to be ready soon to make it to the church in time."

I rolled my eyes, the tears still streaming. I really wanted to tell her to fuck off, but instead I just remained silent. She knew I could hear her, and if she didn't she would have already came in. She was predictable like that. As I hear her footsteps fade away I continue to lay in my grief, tangled in my blankets, fighting back the consuming darkness falling over my heart. It wasn't just that she was gone; it was also the fact that I watched her murdered before my eyes and couldn't do a thing to stop it. I was supposed to be this powerful witch, but there I had stood, helpless as she died.

The bitterness was enough to make me sit up and throw the covers aside. I cast the curtains away, light flooding completely into my eyes. I squint against it, still not fully adjusted, but I don't stop. I fling open the door to my bedroom, narrowly missing my younger cousin, Emma Garwin. She jumped back, clutching her chest, eyes looking shocked. I wasn't sure if she was more shocked by the fact that I was only in my underwear or that I had almost hit her with the door and just kept walking without a single word.

I leave her behind, quickly coming around the corner of the upstairs hallway and grasp the door knob to my grandmother's room, turning it gently. As I open the door I see one of my cousins and a distant aunt of mine sitting upon her bed. My eyes narrow.

"Get out." I say; my voice cold and my eyes hard.

My cousin gets up to leave but my aunt looks at me with her stern condescending expression, "Excuse me young man but-"

"Just shut up, and get out." I say, cutting her off. My anger and will so potent that my telepathy actually puts the thought into her mind; her eyes glaze over as my will takes dominance over her own thoughts and she gets up and leaves with my cousin.

Closing the door behind them I lock it and then look at my surroundings. It still smelt like her, her gardenia perfume mixed with the scent of the detergent she had used since before I even had memory. My baby blankets had been washed in that detergent, so I was aware of that smell long before I was aware of anything else. It felt like home in here. Like she was still with me. It made the pain easier to deal with. Making my way slowly across the room I take in my surroundings, thinking of my greedy family members tearing this room apart to get all the things they thought they deserved, I feel my jaw clench.

Lucky for me, my grandmother left this house and everything in it to me. I wasn't sure who was more shocked when the will was shown, my mom's siblings or me. My grandmother told me once, long before, that I was born in this house and it was truly more my home than it was hers. That's why I was the only family member other than her own children who had a room that was designated as only mine. She promised me once when I was younger that she would not let anyone in here. I felt safe in this house, in these rooms, as if just because I grew up here that made it safe from the evils outside.

My memory shifted to the day she had made the promise. My uncle's children had been snooping around in my room, playing with my toys, when they broke my gymnastics trophy from the previous summer. I was outraged, throwing a true Martin worthy bitch fit. They were my things after all! My uncle argued that I needed to learn to share, telling me I was spoiled. Of course I was spoiled, who the hell did the guy think I was? He resented me for my connection with my grandmother, and had he not been such a douche bag I might have felt bad for him.

My dear half-sister, Lydia Martin, came storming into the room, all fire and sass, "Liam shares his toys with me all the time!" She simpered in a matter-of-fact tone, placing her hands defiantly on her hips, pursing her lips. For a ten year old she had no problem standing up to a man she had only just met.

My uncle made to start in on her, but my grandmother had had enough of the bickering. She scolded my cousins for breaking my trophy and for not asking before playing with people's things and then shooed us all out of the room. As my uncle grumbled, taking his kids back downstairs she turned to me and did her best to scold me for acting like a brat. She got her point across, I knew I wasn't supposed to act like that, but they had no right touching my things. I was Liam Martin, and even at ten I wouldn't stand for people dicking around with things that were rightfully mine.

"I like your Nana!" Lydia said, nodding her head firmly before turning on her heel and skipping off.

My grandmother smiled after her and then looked to me, "That one is going to be a handful."

I grin in response, eyes crinkled in a boyish way.

"Please try to give your uncle reason to start in on you, Liam." She says after a moment, her eyes becoming filled with a touch of concern.

"Yes ma'am." I say, frowning slightly and running my foot sheepishly upon the wooden floors, "They broke my trophy though, Nana."

"I know." She says, nodding in an understanding manor, "How about this, if I make sure that no one goes into your room without you, will you try harder to get along with your uncle and your cousins?"

I agreed of course, and I did my best to fulfill that promise. It was hard, if you knew the man you would see what I meant. Imagine a life size, American version of Uncle Vernon, only skinnier and with no respect for anyone but himself, not even his family. The memories weight heavy on my heart as I enter my grandmother's bathroom. Hung up upon the wall by the shower was my suit, my mother did know me well enough to know that I was going to get ready in here; I had to give her that. Moving the suit out of the bathroom and onto her bed I reentered the bathroom and quickly rid myself of my underwear before hoping into the shower.

Safely inside, the water flowing around me, so distant from the others I was now able to keep their thoughts out. I began to sob. My tears came in streams of grief, crying so hard my body shook. I bent down and hugged my knees, the water rushing over me and just let it all out. I had all these powers, more magic than most of the members of my family, and I was helpless to bring her back. My grandmother had long ago made me promise not to touch resurrection magic. It was almost as if she knew that this day would come and that I would want to do anything I could to save her or bring her back.

Finally I swallow back the streams of tears, pushing back my grief as I stand up and continue on with my shower routine. My expression went blank with numbness. After getting out of the shower I quickly dried off, wiping the mirror of the steam and glancing at myself. My brown hair hung still damp upon my forehead, my baby blue eyes revealed no signs of the tears I had just cried as I put up my steel wall to distance myself from the crippling emotions. I was so trained at appearing to be okay, at being the amazing Liam Martin, that it was almost like I had a vampire off switch inside my head. I knew though, if my grandmother were still here she would see the grief in my eyes; the pain.

I run my hand over my jaw line, examining my angular face. It was so like hers. I often used to joke that I was my grandmother's secret love child and that my mom only claimed me to keep my grandmother from having to explain a child at her age. My lips pursed at my reflection, I needed to get it together and keep it that way, at least until after the funeral. Abruptly Derek Hale's face flashes before my mind. I don't know why it happened, maybe because I was thinking of being strong and keeping on a brave face, but in that moment I thought of my former best friend. Derek had been, and in a lot of ways still was, the only person that saw the true me. Not the one everyone else saw, but the real me.

I wished I could see him. I wanted to just run to him and have his arms wrapped around me in that protective way that only he could make me feel. Derek was gone though, on the run, and I had no idea where. Oddly enough I could sense him, my connection to him deep enough that when I really concentrated I could feel Derek was still alive. Magic was funny that way; mine was anyway, linking me to the people that meant the most to me. I shook my head and continued on getting ready, pushing the thoughts of my lost best friend far from my mind.

Emerging from the bathroom I slipped on my black trunk boxer briefs and set out the daunting task of putting on my tuxedo. Looking at it I had to stop myself from crying again. Geez I was a mess. She had bought this for me; saying I needed one with how often I attended formal events. It wasn't a lie either, it seemed that most days, especially in Mystic Falls I spent more time in formal attire than I did my regular clothes. Finally I had put everything on but my jacket. Walking over to the small full body mirror by my grandmother's dresser I looked myself over. The boy in the reflection looked the same as he did every other time he wore this tuxedo in all aspects except when it came to his eyes. The sadness was hidden well enough, but the hardness was there for all to see.

I remembered buying it, how happy I had been that day, my grandmother laughing at me as I tried on one tux after another. Finally picking this one, I looked into the mirror at the store with a gleam in my eyes, an innocence that had long since died in me. Good riddance, I thought. Then again, if I was honest with myself, I did miss the way I once was. Before Derek's family was killed, I was ripped from my sister's arms and taken to Mystic Falls, then watching my boyfriend die only to leave for Chance Harbor.

When I got to this town I thought things were going to look up, there were witches all over this town; surely I would be safe here. And I was safe, until the Hunters came back to finish what they had tried to do so many years before my time. They killed almost every single member of my Circle before my eyes. But they made the mistake of saving me for last. I got vengeance, my full power unleashing for the first time. Then once again, I thought it was over and I was safe.

I stopped my thoughts there; I couldn't remember that night again right now. I would lose it. I needed to get through this day and get all these people the hell out of my house. Sitting down at her vanity, I play absently with her makeup and other feminine products. I pick up her hair brush and turn it over in my hands before setting it down and grabbing her base and opening it. I spotted the faint hints of bags under my eyes, they weren't too obvious, but I was going to make them none existent. My skin was so similar to my grandmother's that the base worked perfectly as I applied it. I finished and looked myself over. My image was flawless, I thought, the exact image of the boy he should be and not the boy I was inside.

I put the container down and then apply my Burt's Bees chap stick to my lips. Smacking them and finally becoming satisfied with my appearance I turn to get out of the seat on to have something catch my eye. I squint my eyes at the spot just below the mirror. It was a plain white envelope. From the looks of it, it appeared to be a letter. I reach out and pick it up, turning it over to see the letters over the top spelling my full name. What was this black magic? My eyes grow wide, had someone tried to hide this from me? I swallow hard and open it without delay, breaking the seal easily.

'Liam' the letter read, 'One day I will be gone. I worry sometimes that you don't see how precious you are, that you focus so hard on the negative that you don't see the light inside of you. If the day comes and I'm no longer there, I need you to do only one thing for me. Live. Don't give up because I'm gone. You have so much love in your heart; you need to share that love with the world. Since the day you were born you have been a joy, my sweet grandson. Don't let how cruel and hard this world can be break the man you are growing into. Take it one day at a time.

I want to thank you for brightening my days, and remember how much you mean to me. I love you dearly, and remember that, take it with you every day. I think your sister will agree with me when I tell you this; you deserve every happiness this world has to offer. I don't say that because you are my grandson, my darling boy, but because it's true. If I ever leave this world alive, I will be with you in spirit. Just say my name, or think on me and I will be by your side. Be strong, wipe your tears, and carry me with you in your journeys. With all my love, Nana.'

I was crying before I even read the second sentence, the tears streaming down my cheek. In that moment I felt her there, beside me, as if she were holding me tightly in her arms. My lips curve into a watery smile as I clutch the letter to my chest. Closing my eyes I think, 'Thank you, thank you so much.' The tears come faster as I take a breath; she was smiling at me, wherever she was. My blue eyes drift across the vanity and see the photo sitting beside the mirror; she and I standing together, I was laughing and she was hugging me tightly. I wanted to remember her that way, and maybe if I did that, the boy in that picture, the boy she loved, would be okay somehow.

"I'm okay, Nana," I say alright, "I'll be alright, even though you are gone from my life."

As I utter the words the tears slowly stop. My chest shudders with the remainders of the tears as I get up from the table and grab my jacket. 'You will always be more than a memory,' I think, placing the letter within the coat pocket. Casting one last look to the picture upon the vanity, I take a deep breath. I'm Liam Martin, and it may not be now, or next week, but I'm going to be okay. For her.