"That should be the last of them right, Annie?"
The girl looked up, blowing upwards with clear irritation to sweep the stray curl that had fallen into her eyes. She looked around the bare room that was now hers, before turning to her uncle and nodding as she gave him a terse smile. "Yeah, I think that's it. I didn't bring along much, just the essentials."
Alan Deaton took a long look at the young girl, his eyes giving her the uncomfortable feeling of being x-rayed. But knowing her freakishly observant uncle, that was probably exactly what he was doing. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, finally breaking the silence.
Annie gave a nondescript shrug as she looked around once more, staring at the boxes scattered on her floor, unwilling to really get back into the whole emotional side of things. She had spent the better part of the past two and a half weeks in tears, and quite frankly she was just so tired of it. "I mean, the funerals were barely a week ago… and I had to haul my ass three thousand miles away from home to come here. So, yeah, I guess things are absolutely peachy." She said nonchalantly, crossing her arms casually. The hostility underlying her words clearly indicated to the vet that she had no desire to talk.
He simply sighed and nodded. "You know you can come and talk to me whenever you need to, right?"
Annie rolled her eyes and flopped down on the bare bed. "Yeah, I know, Alan. You're here to support and guide me, and help me with all that gross teenage emotional crap." She waved her hand around vaguely before tilting her head and placing a sweet, but very obviously forced, smile on her face. "I'll be sure to clear my schedule one night so we can eat ice cream, watch The Notebook, and have a good cry together."
This time, it was Deaton's turn to roll his eyes at the girl. "I need to head to work. You can come down later on if you've finished up. Maybe the risk of getting bitten will help you tone down your own bite."
Annie rose a hand lazily, waving to him goodbye, listening to his fading footsteps as he descended the stairs and grabbed his keys. She closed her eyes and listened intently, hearing the door close behind him and the faintness of his car engine rumbling to life.
She laid there for several moments before she let out a shuddering breath, only just noticing then how she had been holding it. Sitting back up, she looked around the room with a frown. She had a lot of work to do if she wanted to make what used to be a storage room her new home.
The sound of loud drums and even louder guitar riffs filled the air as she dug through the last of her boxes. Several hours later, and she had gotten through much more than she had originally thought she would. Annie's bed was now fully furnished with too many pillows than one person really needed and her favourite hand-knit blanket folded neatly off the end of the bed. Her collection of books were all stacked dangerously on the edge of her desk. The room was beginning to come together. It had taken everything she had not to simply make it look like a replica of her old room, but she wanted this move to be a fresh start. She couldn't resist bringing along mementos of her old life, though.
Annie walked over to one of the boxes, opening it and smiling at the familiar jars that greeted her.
"Vervain… check. Wormwood… check. Goddamnit, where's…" She muttered, kneeling on the ground and tucking a curl behind her ear as she delved deeper into the box. With a sigh of relief, she lifted out the last jar she had been searching for. "…oh here it is."
She pulled out jar after jar, placing them carefully on her bed before she could really think about where she wanted to put her myriad of herbs and salves. Experimenting with new creations and ideas had been her favorite thing to do, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to touch any of her products since leaving the hospital. It was typically something she did with her mother and considering her mother was dead, it didn't quite seem appropriate for her to continue with their favourite shared activity.
With a heavy sigh, she stood up straight and reached for the jars on her bed. With several balanced in her hands, she walked over to her dresser, looking into the large mirror hanging right above it. Annie couldn't help but stare, her gaze immediately traveling to the still-fresh scar. It was still puckered and angry looking. Some areas more healed than the rest as it slowly, but surely, scabbed over. The corner of her left eye, where it began, was pulled down slightly, as was the left corner of her lips.
She was lucky, she knew she was, to have escaped an attack like that with only a slight disfigurement like that. Albeit, it was a particularly painful one accompanied by several others on her shoulder and her arm, which she had thrown up in reaction to being caught in the face by claws.
At least she didn't have to walk around with the large, imposing bandage on half her face anymore. The actual sight of the damage would take getting used to, though. Once again, she sighed heavily before placing the jars down and forced herself away from the mirror.
She had nearly a full month until she would have to start school again, she'd have to get over her insecurities about her scars. She nearly couldn't hole in her snort.
Easier said than done.
She needed to get out of the house. Annie, by nature, just wasn't the type of person who could just sit around and do nothing. Having set up her room completely within two days, she had run out of things to busy herself with, and it was dangerous to leave her to just sit and think, it would undoubtedly lead her to begin brooding.
But then came the obvious obstacle of the little fact that she had absolutely no idea what to do or where to go in town. Alan had, thankfully, been giving her space while she settled in, but that meant she had no knowledge of what to do other than to stop by his animal clinic like he had suggested on the first day of her arrival to town. Maybe looking at some dogs would clean up her shit-filled life.
Maybe she should just get a dog.
'Take a right in point two miles."
Annie's lips pulled into a slight frown as the clipped sound of the GPS rudely interrupted her thoughts about dogs. She tapped her fingers against the wheel, leaning forwards slightly as she made the turn and began pulling into the unfamiliar clinic. Turning the engine off, she stared at the driving wheel for several moments before inhaling and grabbing the messenger bag that had been carelessly thrown onto the passenger seat. Grabbing her keys and tossing them into her bag, she manually locked the car before making her way into the clinic, the light chiming of little bells being the only indication of her entrance.
"Hi, can I help you?"
As she looked around, curiosity alight in her eyes, a young guy, probably around her age, poked his head out from behind the corner with a polite smile at his lips. She nodded slowly before reaching up and clutching at the strap of her bag.
"Uh- yeah… Is Alan back there?" She held back the urge to wince at her own voice. It usually was rather low and hoarse, but when she had opened her mouth, it sounded as though she hadn't spoken in ages. Granted, that was pretty much the case considering she hadn't spoken to anyone other than her uncle, and it wasn't for anything apart for the bare necessities.
The guy furrowed his brows at her, surprise lighting up his soft brown eyes, probably at the fact that she had called the vet by his first name. She silently cursed herself for being so obvious, she should've just asked for Doctor Deaton, as unnatural as that sounded to her. So much for not drawing attention to herself.
"Oh, uh- Are you… Annie?" He asked with a bit of uncertainty, as though he were remembering her name. She shifted uncomfortably, looking slightly down and away from him, showing more of the right side of her face rather than the scarred left side. She doubted he was blatantly staring at her. People, unless they were small children, didn't typically do that, but it just felt like people stared at her. No matter how much she told herself that no one was looking, it did nothing to assuage the sensation.
"Annie! Glad you could finally make it down." Alan's light, smooth tone saved her from the tension she had single-handedly created. "Scott, this is the niece that I've told you about." he introduced, gesturing freely in her direction.
He perked up slightly as he turned to look back at her, a smile still on his lips, but somehow more genuine, as he stretched out his hand to her. "It's nice to finally meet you."
She cleared her throat, giving him an awkward half-smile, careful not to stretch the aching wound in her attempt to appear like a functioning human being. "Yeah, you too… Alan speaks very highly of you." She met his hand with her own and gave it a firm shake. She watched as his smile turned bashful, a sign he was humble. Well, that was good, she wouldn't have to deal with any insufferable arrogance that wasn't her own.
Letting go of his hand, she stuffed her hands into her jean pockets, clearing her throat before turning slightly to look at Alan curiously. "Uh- I finished unpacking a while ago and figured I should come down and see if I could be productive at all."
Her uncle only gave her a knowing smile, guessing she had finally gotten fed up with simply lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Which, he really couldn't complain about. He nodded sharply towards the examination room before turning and walking in that direction, prompting her to follow. She offered Scott one last half smile before following her uncle in.
Lydia Martin was beyond bored. Any long break served as a good time to establish herself in the delicate social hierarchy of Beacon Hills, but, of course, there wasn't really anything to do when she was already on top. That was always the problem, she was never really challenged. There was never anything new in town.
Granted, a part of her loved the stability and the certainty, but the other parts of her just wanted something new to occupy her time.
Just as she was slowing down her car to turn into her driveway, a movement out of her periphery caught her attention. Slowing down completely, she turned to her right, spotting a high, messy bun poking out from above a bush, escaping black curls danced freely in the light breeze. She frowned, pausing for a moment to think about who lived there. If she were remembering correctly, it was the town's local vet, a quiet, but useful man. She didn't remember a girl living there. Pulling over to the curb, she parked and threw her door open before making her way over to her neighbour's. Not a moment later, the owner of the bun stood up to her full height, which wasn't much, Lydia observed. The girl was unfamiliar, but as she drew closer, she could tell by the girl's features that she was definitely somehow related to Dr. Deaton.
"Hey! Hi, there!" She called out, her tone becoming the signature light and bubbly one that belonged to Queen Bee Lydia, the one she used regardless of if she was tearing someone down or complementing them. The girl turned around and she couldn't help but notice just how… terrible the girl looked.
Was that horrible to say? Surely, it wasn't?
The girl had to be aware of how bad she looked. She had a tiredly stoic expression on her face, dark circles featured prominently under her eyes, as though she hadn't slept in days. There was dirt on her knees, and a stray streak on her right cheek where she must have smudged some on accidentally. But what drew her attention almost immediately was the angry looking scar on her left cheek. It made her pause, but Lydia was nothing if not smooth. She quickly pushed aside her moment of shock and stepped closer to the girl who was raising an eyebrow at her.
"Sorry to bother you, I just noticed you out here… You're new, aren't you?" she asked, flipping her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, her tone never faltering from the sweet, light one she used when she had first greeted the girl.
The girl simply looked at Lydia, her eyes shifting slightly as she took in the redhead's features before nodding slowly, as though she were suspicious. The girl's silence was disconcerting, to say the least, but perhaps… Maybe she was the challenge Lydia was looking for? Lydia straightened her back, pushing her shoulders back as she gazed down at the curly haired girl. She seemed to almost be hiding behind the large bush she had just been pruning as if the thing were a shield between her and Lydia.
Simply smiling that bright, saccharine smile, Lydia clapped her hands together. "Well, let me be the first to welcome you to the neighbourhood." The girl continued to stare warily at Lydia, narrowing her eyes and scanning her from head to toe, making the latter purse her lips and raise a perfectly sculpted brow at her. A small smirk played at Lydia's glossy lips. "You know, I love the whole 'Don't touch me, I can kick your ass blindfolded' aesthetic you've got going on…" she unclasped her hands, her right one going to point vaguely at the girl's whole person.
This time, it was Annie's turn to raise an eyebrow at the other girl. She remained silent, still not knowing what exactly this girl wanted from her. The questioning expression she had on her face must have been plainly and obviously written across her features as she crossed her arms, shifting her weight and slightly jutting out her hip in a show of attitude.
Lydia sighed tediously, "Oh come on. The tats, the boots, the attitude? You definitely know you've got it going on. The scar really ties things together…" She added slyly, watching the girl's reaction carefully.
Annie's hand flew up to the side of her face, her fingers ghosting over the mentioned feature, an embarrassed blush dusting across her cheeks. Lydia felt a sense of victory course through her at the immediate response she had gotten from the other girl. So it really must have been a new injury if the girl was that self-conscious about it. She remained silent though, choosing not to comment on it, something Annie very much noticed.
The brunette looked down at herself, surprised that the other girl had been so quick to pick out little details about her, like the tattoos on her wrist and the inside of her middle finger. And she supposed that with the addition of her flannel, worn out jean shorts, and even more worn out boots, she kind of did give off a rather "grunge-like" vibe.
"Although, I gotta be honest. You kind of make it adorable."
Annie's face dropped into an expression that plainly said 'oh come on'. Then again standing at barely 5'2" and having a baby face like hers probably made it hard to pull off that "whole thing" the redhead had been talking about.
Annie clenched her jaw as she crossed her arms once more, brown eyes trailing from the girl's impossibly high heels, short floral skirt, and to the light pink blouse she donned, all mostly covered by an expensive looking pea coat. "You're not always this… peppy, are you? 'Cause that must get exhausting." She finally spoke, her dry low voice giving Lydia pause.
She gave the shorter girl a hint of a smirk as she mirrored her actions and crossed her own arms. "One does what one has to do to stay on top around here. Gotta stay charismatic."
"What one calls charismatic, another calls annoying and fake."
A slow smile stretched out across her painted lips as she looked at the curly haired girl with curious eyes. "Lydia Martin, I'm a sophomore at Beacon Hills High." She confidently introduced, sticking a perfectly manicured hand out, reaching over the bush that separated them.
Annie hesitantly stuck her own hand out, feeling terribly forced into second place as she eyed her chipping nail polish and the dirt that had snuck underneath her nails. "Annie Emery. Also a sophomore there. Or at least, I will be." She introduced, making no effort to hide the slight suspicion that colored her tone.
Lydia gave her a bright grin and a wink. "Well, neighbour, you just stick with me and you'll be alright." She declared, letting go of her hand.
Annie could only blink. "Uh… thanks?" she said, the inflection at the end making it sound like a question, showcasing just how honestly surprised she felt. Lydia didn't seem like the type of girl to really go around offering her acquaintanceship to anyone who rolled up to her. Then again, she hadn't rolled up to the girl, it had been more the other way around.
Lydia lifted a finger to tap at the corner of her lips. "Your hands are so soft, by the way. What moisturizer do you use?" she asked curiously, that smile still fixed onto her lips, making Annie vaguely wonder if she got tired at all, or if her face was just stuck that way.
Annie looked down at her hands, a slight frown of confusion making its way to her own lips before looking up with furrowed brows. "Oh, uh… It's um... I actually make some stuff on my own. I like to stay organic, you know?"
Lydia looked at her increased interest, a sculpted brow rising. "You make your own cosmetic supplies?" she asked, impressed.
The other girl was quick to shake her head as she stuffed her hands into her jean pockets. "Well, uh… not cosmetics but topical creams… uh… herbal and home remedies… aromatherapy supplies… things like that." She said shyly, her hand flying up out of her pocket to rub her neck, a nervous action she seemed to have inherited from her father. "My dad was a botanist and my mom was big on making her own things so like… I kind of just picked up on their interests." she shrugged.
Was.
The word stuck out like a big neon sign.
Lydia gave the girl one more appraising glance before tilting her head. "Why don't you come over tomorrow? We can make a whole day out of it! I'll show you around town and get you a little more comfortably settled in."
Raising an eyebrow at the offer, Annie only shifted once more and crossed her arms. "How do you know I'm not already familiar with the town?"
Lydia simply challenged her with a raised eyebrow of her own. "Well, are you?"
The girl visibly deflated under Lydia's sharp green gaze, sighing as the redhead made a hummed sound of victory, a smile stretching over her lips. "It's settled! Come over around ten tomorrow, I'm two houses down with the long driveway, you really can't miss it." She didn't bother saying goodbye, simply turning sharply, her soft curls bouncing with the movement as she returned back to her car, leaving a bewildered Annie in her stead.
Was she desperate for doing this? What if this was like… one of those shitty pranks popular kids to get views on YouTube? Like, what if when the door opened she'd find herself with a face full of… whatever thrown at her and the entire clique laughing behind a smartphone?
Shit, Annie, stop being so paranoid.
She sighed deeply as she waited anxiously in front of Lydia's grand front door, toeing the corner of the welcome mat with the tip of her heeled boots. Turning, she looked at the long driveway and then back down to her feet. She could probably book it in time. The last time she had done a good sprint had been her last meet and that was nearly a month and a half ago, but she was sure she could break a personal record with anxiety fueling her.
Stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets, she bit her lip before turning around and beginning to climb down the two little steps. The sound of a door opening wide made her freeze immediately though, a familiar saccharine voice floating over to her. "Oh! I'm so glad you actually came. I was afraid I going to have to hunt you down and drag you out myself." Slowly turning, Annie braced herself to have something thrown at her, but as she turned fully, she was met by the wide, happy grin of one Lydia Martin.
Annie slowly walked back up the two steps she had taken down, "You… would have done that?" She asked, still slightly suspicious of, who was no doubt, one of the most popular girls in Beacon Hills from how she carried herself.
Lydia appeared almost offended, a hand flying up to rest on her chest. "Well, I said I would show you around town, didn't I? I'm a woman of my word." Her hand lifted upwards to flip her hair over her shoulder before reaching out and grabbing Annie's elbow with surprising strength. Lydia dragged her into the house, smiling when she caught Annie's head tilt up as she looked around the grand foyer.
"C'mon." She pressed, continuing to drag the other girl until they got to the kitchen where a woman stood, leaning against the marble countertop and sipping at a mug. "Mom, this is Annie! She just moved in next door." Lydia introduced, finally loosening her steel grip on Annie's elbow.
The woman looked slightly puzzled before realization crossed her features. "Natalie Martin, it's a pleasure to meet you, Annie. You're Doctor Deaton's niece, right?"
Annie gave a tight, but polite smile as she grasped the woman's outstretched hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "Yes, ma'am. And it's uh- nice to meet you too." She gave a quick nod before a high pitched yap turned her attention to the ground. Almost immediately, her expression softened as she gazed down at the little black and white dog pawing at her feet.
"And who's this cutie?" She asked, the delight nearly impossible to mask in her voice. Lydia raised an eyebrow at the quiet girl's sudden change in demeanor, watching as she bent down and picked up the dog easily.
"...That's Prada… and he very rarely reacts so calmly to new people."
Annie's face split into a small crooked grin as she used a finger to gently scratch the dog's neck. "I've been known to be something of an animal whisperer." She said casually, a small smirk playing on her lips as though she were sharing an inside joke with herself. Scooping up the little dog into her arms, she straightened up and looked at the redhead. Maybe, if Lydia proved to be a real friend, she wouldn't even need to get a dog for herself, she thought to herself, the little smirk transforming into the ghost of a genuine smile.
"We really miss you, Annie."
Staring into her best friend's face on the screen made her heart ache for everything she had lost back home. "I miss you guys too, believe me, I would love nothing more than to go back. Like, I've been looking into what it'd take for me to get emancipated, but I don't think Alan would like that very much." She rolled her eyes, rolling onto her back, careful not to accidentally push her laptop off the corner of the bed.
A loud sigh could be heard from Julia and she didn't need to be looking at the screen to know that the girl had just rolled her eyes at her. "Maybe this is good for you, Anne? A change of scenery should be good. I mean obviously after what happened…" Annie finally turned her head to look at the camera, rolling onto her side and supporting her head with her hand.
"Yeah, I guess…" She said, giving a half-shrug.
Julia leaned closer to the screen, giving the other girl a suspicious look. "You're gonna be talking to someone right?"
Annie pursed her lips and gave another half-shrug. "Uh, I'm talking to you right now."
"Haha, you're a hilarious piece of shit, we get it. I'm being serious, Annie. I know how you get."
Sitting up, she lifted her laptop onto her lap and leaned in close to the camera, giving an irritated and warning look to her friend. "Easily annoyed by prying friends?"
"Easily depressed." Came the correction. Julia leaned leisurely back into her chair. "Girl, you're the only person I know with the ability to feel guilty about everything regardless of whether you were actually involved or not, it's kinda impressive actually."
Rolling her eyes Annie replied back, defensiveness clear in her voice. "I'm gonna have to check in with a counselor at least every month for a full year, don't worry."
"And are you really gonna do that? Or are you gonna pull a famous Emery and somehow worm your way out of the situation."
She sighed, unconsciously pulling at the curls that had come out of her high bun. "Well, technically this counselor is my aunt, who's got a scary good intuition. I doubt she's gonna let me pull my bullshit."
Julia seemed to give a sigh of relief, making the other girl roll her eyes again. "For your sake, I hope you're right. I just want you to be okay, Anne." Deep down, Annie knew that Julia was probably right to worry. She knew she wasn't as in touch with her emotional capacities as she really should be, and her emotional ineptitude tended to lead to some skewed perspectives, but she couldn't be particularly bothered to care at this point.
…Goddamnit, she's right.
"Scott! C'mon, man! Sco- You are not Scott."
Annie flinched as the door to the clinic flung open, the bells ringing violently at the action. Her head snapped up as she looked up from her laptop in alarm, meeting the eyes of a boy her age. Simply blinking as she mentally told herself to calm the hell down, she fashioned her expression into one of boredom. "Yeah, no. Last time I checked, I wasn't Scott." She returned her gaze to the screen in front of her and continued tapping on the trackpad with her middle finger.
"Well, where is he?"
Laboringly, she drew her gaze back up to look at him, irritation clear in her eyes. "Did you forget to put a leash on him?" She answered, completely deadpan.
The kid only stared at her, trying to decide whether or not she was being serious. "He's… He's not a dog!"
Rolling her eyes, she leaned back in her seat. "I know that. It was a joke."
"Not a great joke if you have to say it's a joke."
"Not my fault you didn't get it. It's a great joke regardless." She spoke before dragging her gaze back onto the screen.
"So, you're definitely not getting five stars on Yelp." Came the mumbled response. Annie rolled her eyes before pushing the laptop away and turning to the guy with an overly dramatic bright smile and wide eyes.
"Hello! Welcome to the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic! How may I help you? Need shots? Neutering?" She dropped her smile on the last suggestion before looking at him with the same bored expression. "Seriously, is there anything I can do? 'Cause if not, please stop wasting my time." She lifted a hand, gesturing vaguely towards the door he had just burst through.
"At least you said please." He muttered. "Seriously, where is he?"
Annie let out a short groan and shrugged at him. "Look, he got let off early. Once he left those doors, I didn't follow up with him. We've got this cool piece of technology nowadays called a cell phone, I trust you've heard of it before?"
He twisted around, looking around spastically, as though he were looking for another person in the room before turning back to her with narrowed eyes. "Geez, what crawled up your ass and died?" He asked, crossing his arms.
Clenching her jaw, she mimicked him, crossing her arms and narrowing her own eyes, leaning forwards as though challenging him. "I think it might be the last fuck I gave? I dunno, it was a long time ago, so I can't be sure." She bit back.
The kid stared at her for several moments, his mouth opening and closing as though he were about to say something before it finally decided to settle on a wide grin. "Okay, that was good, I've gotta admit." He shrugged.
Annie couldn't help but pause, leaning back immediately, the surprising response taking her completely off guard. Raising a brow, she surveyed his mole covered face, not expecting him to offer any sort of compliment when their whole interaction thus far had been rather hostile.
"I'm Stiles."
Ah, she was pretty sure Scott had mentioned a Stiles sometime during their awkward periods of small talk whenever she showed up when he happened to be working. Giving him a mockingly pitying look, she shook her head. "Your parents named you Stiles?"
He immediately frowned, "It's a nickname." He said defensively.
Annie shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Your name must be seriously unfortunate if you're using Stiles as an improvement."He opened his mouth to come to his own defense once again but Annie interrupted. "I can't really judge, my own name's a pretty terrible one." she shrugged once more, her fingers tapping unconsciously on the wood.
Stiles closed his mouth and looked at her with puzzlement. "Annie Emery…" She introduced. "And that's the closest you'll ever get to my real name."
Realization crossed his features, a hand rising to shake a pointing finger at her, making her eyes zero in on the limb in distaste. "So, you're the Annie that Scott was talking about… You're a lot… meaner than he made you sound."
Giving an unladylike snort that no doubt would have had Lydia slap her arm with aggression, she shook her head. "Yeah, well, I don't know Scott very well, but I'm pretty sure he shits sunshine and rainbows. I'd probably have to massacre half the animals in the clinic for him to call me mean."
"That… is not incorrect, actually."
A moment of silence passed between them. Annie looked down at her tapping fingers, keeping her gaze down as Stiles knocked once on the wood, nodding awkwardly giving a quiet, "... Right…" before turning to leave. She sighed and looked back up, hearing the bells jingle.
"Hey, uh- Stiles…" He stopped in his tracks, poking his head back into the clinic with furrowed brows and surprised eyes. Pursing her lips, she made a vague gesture towards the door. "I think he mentioned heading to a place called… Butler's, I think?" She questioned, tilting her head, but continued on at seeing the recognition in his eyes. "Said he was picking up dinner, or something. He left like ten minutes ago, if you really need him, you could probably catch him." She shrugged.
He stared at her for a moment before breaking out once more into a grin. He lifted his hands, giving her a big thumbs up, "Thanks, Annie. Wasn't so hard, was it?" Before she could answer, he rushed completely out, leaving the door to close on its own and for Annie to roll her eyes. Shaking her head, she drew her laptop back closer to her.
The feeling of her lungs burning and the cuts on her arms and legs from the surrounding brush weren't enough to keep her from running. She was getting tired though, she knew she was, and it was the fact that she knew how tired she was that scared her. How long would she be able to keep running before she was caught?
She really didn't want to find out.
"Annie! Keep going, keep running!"
Her mother's panicked voice rang out to her, echoing out, as though the sound were bouncing off of the trees surrounding her.
"Annie! Run, Annie! Run!"
The last word was cut short by a mangled, loud, agonized scream. "Mom! Mom!" She called out, slowing down as she whipped around frantically, trying to find her mother. Her chest heaved wildly as she tried to get the cool air into her oxygen-starved lungs. "Mom! Where are you?" She turned once more before finding the worst possible thing she could ever hope to find.
Her mother laid in front of her, at the base of a large tree. What were once bright, warm, and lively brown eyes were staring up, unseeing and glassy. Claw marks were scattered across her body, from her face all the way down to her torso, her throat ripped out, painting her body with her own blood.
Annie stumbled backward, a hand flying to cover her mouth, cold shock making her feel as though a bucket of ice water had been thrown straight into her face. A low growl made her tear her eyes away from the horrific sight, turning to her right with bated breath, she felt her muscles coil. Red eyes, bright like a light gleaming off a precious ruby, were trained on her. She was going to die. She knew it. She could feel it. Dead at fifteen, mauled by the very type of creature she was going to spend her life protecting and serving. Was that ironic? She didn't want irony.
The growl grew louder, making her instinctively take a startled step back, but the movement only served to encourage the beast to move forwards. Before she knew it, her back hit the ground violently and those blood red eyes gazed down at her, the werewolf straddling her waist. Long, blood covered claws were drawn high up above her, threatening to come down on her with fury.
They did just that.
Her arm flew up instinctively, but she wasn't completely saved. Her head whipped hard to the right before her face and forearm began burning with a pain she had never felt before. His hand came down again, striking her at her left shoulder, much too close to her jugular. Just as his other hand rose up to come down, there was a part of her that knew what would happen next. Next, an inexplicable force would throw him back. It would force him off her and onto the sharp, protruding branch of the tree located just in front of her. That was what was supposed to happen. She'd had this dream so many times, had actually experienced these events, that the sequence was burned into her brain. It haunted her every time she closed her eyes, but the result was the same. She was alive.
But this time things were different. The burst of power never came. The werewolf was never forced off of her, and before she could let out a scream that would be unheard by anyone anyways, the claws came down, easily piercing her neck.
"Annie! Annie! Annie, wake up!"
Her eyes flew open and she immediately registered a strange noise echoing through her room. It only took another few moments for her to realize that it was the sound of her crying, or perhaps sobbing was a better word for it. Her hand flew up instinctively to clutch at her cheek, her scar burning as though the injury had just happened.
Alan leaned over and flipped her bedside lamp on, the light filling the room but doing nothing to calm the girl down. "It's just a dream, don't worry. Just a dream." he soothed. His arms were wrapped around her tightly, but she was hanging onto him even tighter, as though he were her anchor to the world. She squeezed her eyes shut, but, at seeing the image of her mother's mangled corpse, as though it was burned into her retina, she quickly snapped them back open, tears falling freely.
An unspoken agreement had been formed between her and her uncle. If she had a nightmare violent enough to wake him up, violent enough to have to involve him (which was happening a bit too often for her own taste), then it would not be spoken about the next day unless she was the one to bring it up. It was a quality she adored about her uncle, the man wasn't one to pry. He was much too intuitive for that, but while he may have been able to pick things up involving her behavior, he never brought it up or pushed her into speaking until she was ready.
Although, a part of her felt a bit sorry that the closest the two became was during the moments where she was clutching to him while sobbing her heart out. Although to be fair, a normal uncle/niece relationship was probably never in the picture for them.
Staring at the spoon she had used to stir her coffee that morning, Annie's brow furrowed in concentration. Her mouth pursed, her expression becoming one of slight pain before she sighed and slumped in her seat. Alan, who had walked into the kitchen to see the last moments of her mental battle with the spoon, walked over to the coffee pot with a mug in hand as he turned to look at her momentarily. "Have you been practicing?" he asked, before turning back to pour out a cup of freshly brewed coffee.
Annie gave a nondescript shrug before realizing that he wasn't facing her and instead sighed loudly, sinking deeper into her seat, a hand flying up to rub at her temple. "Trying to, at least. Nothing I've ever done is nearly as powerful as what happened in November though." she said, her tone clearly conveying just how disheartened she felt.
Alan turned around, the steaming cup in his hand as he walked over and pulled out the chair across from her. Placing the mug on the table, he leaned forward. "Try not to feel so discouraged, your abilities are rare and difficult to harness as it is. The fact that you're no longer in danger may mean that you have no real reason to use them at all."
Annie looked down at her hands with a frown, thinking back to the fateful night her life changed completely. It wasn't unheard of for Druids to be able to manipulate certain natural energies. It was sometimes necessary for their duties. But to be able to use them in the capacity that she had? It was excessive. She could still remember the power that had quite literally burst forth from her. The emotions she felt leading up to it… watching her mother die and subsequently getting attacked immediately after was bound to draw a reaction out from her.
The problem was that she didn't think she'd be able to do something like that again.
Shaking her head, she stretched her hands out in front of her. "I don't think I want to do anything like that again. It was… scary." She admitted. "Not to mention, I just felt… off… for days after that."
Alan remained silent, only moving to fold his hands on the table in front of him, listening intently. For a split second of a moment, a look of indecision crossed his features. "What… what was- no, never mind." He shook his head as though he were waving away his own question, leaning back in his seat and grabbing the handle of his mug, drawing it up to his lips.
"What?" She raised a curious brow at him.
After drawing a generous sip of his coffee, he placed the mug back down. Pursing his lips slightly, an action her mother used to do rather frequently, he took a moment before finally giving in and asking the question that was on his mind. "… What was it… like?"
Annie frowned slightly, her brows furrowing as she looked into her own mug of coffee. "It's kinda fuzzy, but I don't think I'll ever forget how painful it was." She spoke low and kept her gaze down. "It was first like that feeling you get before something goes really, really wrong, you know? Like, the unsettling feeling of butterflies in your stomach? When you get really nervous?" Lifting her left hand, her index finger began unconsciously tracing the lip of the mug.
"I don't remember much of what happened after but I remember trying to get back up to mom and like… seeing him just… stuck there…" Her voice decreased in volume as she continued speaking, falling into a whisper as she finished. "But uh- it was like I couldn't move at all. Like I had used up all the energy in my body and then I think I just passed out." She finished with a shrug, clenching her jaw as she tried to reign in her emotions.
"Whatever, it's fine. I'm not particularly jumping at the chance to be any more of a freak than I am." She lifted her mug to her lips and downed the rest of her coffee before standing up and walking over to the sink to wash the mug out, ignoring the way his eyes followed her closely. "And like I said, I don't think I want to do anything like it again." She spoke, not bothering to look back at him as she continued with her chore. Placing the ceramic cup onto the drying rack, she dried her hands and finally turned to her uncle, a smile on her face, as if they hadn't just been speaking about something serious.
"I'm gonna go check out the garden and then head to Lydia's, she wants me to meet her boyfriend." She shrugged, walking past him and grabbing the messenger bag that had been tossed down near the leg of the chair she had been occupying before. He simply looked at her with the same observant expression, his eyes once again giving her the feeling of being x-rayed. Rolling her own eyes, she shook her head as she grabbed her jacket, her other hand lifting to point at him. "Stop trying to psychoanalyze me, that's Marin's job."
He raised his hands in a placating gesture, a look of innocence painting his features. "I was doing no such thing."
"Yeah, right… And I'm absolutely fine. We're a house of liars."