Melissa McCall secured the second soft restraint to this woman's wrist. Nancy, she mentally reminded herself of the patient's name. Nancy is the woman in front of me. This woman who probably looked very beautiful two hours ago, before she ended up here in the trauma department- two hours ago, when she was still in that fancy dress that they'd needed to remove. It was a formal dressthat Melissa had been forced to help the doctors cut off of her body in order to better assess her injuries. Melissa was trying to imagine what this woman looked like before her face had acquired such a huge gash from the car wreck. She wondered what this woman seemed like when happy, because all Melissa had seen was her facial expression transforming from one full of fear into one she recognized too damn well – the face of a person overcome with unbearable grief.
"Nancy," Melissa said forcefully, unsympathetically, trying with all of her might to catch this fragile woman's attention, and keep it once she had it. "Listen to me. Your daughter is dead." She didn't see any point in sugarcoating the harsh words. "And that is heartbreaking. It's completely awful. It is."
The woman who had just attempted to take her own life but had been thwarted by Melissa looked up, seeming shocked by the harshness of her nurse's words, and the cold tone with which she was delivering them.
"But Nancy," she said, repeating her name for emphasis, "you have two other children who need you. You cannot kill yourself. You cannot let yourself get to this point. This is not fair to them. They just lost their sister. You have to help them through this. It is your job to remember that you are still your sons' parent."
Nancy glanced guiltily toward the pair of scissors that had been used to cut her clothes off of her body. Those scissors, right there, were the thing she had grabbed and attempted to use to slit her own wrists before Melissa had intervened and grabbed them, forcefully, away. She had since paged a doctor to help her, but in the meantime, since the 5-car pileup on the highway had the hospital's staff overwhelmed, Melissa was the only person around to deal with this woman's suicidal tendencies.
"You were lucky," Melissa said, hating herself for having to say it, knowing that the woman felt anything but lucky in this moment. Melissa knew she should probably wait for one of the trained mental health professionals to talk to the patient. A psychiatrist probably would never say something like that to a woman who had just lost her daughter and then tried… well Melissa couldn't be sure of what had been going through Nancy's mind. Maybe she was trying to stop feeling the overwhelming pain of grief. Maybe she just wanted to join her little girl in the afterlife. But it didn't matter. She'd tried to kill herself.
Melissa was no psychiatrist. "You need to realize you were lucky," she reiterated. "You are injured, and you're on pain medications right now which probably aren't helping your mental state, and yes you are going to need to spend a month or more physically healing. But you escaped from this car crash. Alive. Not even permanently disabled. Not everyone gets to say that. And… and you had your whole family with you," Melissa repeated. "But only your daughter died."
"You don't understand," Nancy bitterly told her nurse, frustrated at how she could no longer move her arms. Melissa was grateful that she'd been able to secure the restraints all by herself, without the help of a second member of the staff. Her years of practice had clearly paid off. Nancy broke eye contact with Melissa and a few tears started to fall out of the sides of her eyes. "You don't understand," she repeated quietly, this time in a near-mumble.
"What don't I understand?" Melissa asked, trying to sound a bit more understanding, like she was willing to listen.
"How many kids do you have?" Nancy questioned, crossing that line into personal territory that Melissa hated when patients crossed.
The answer was on the tip of her tongue. One, of course. Scott was her only child. She'd only gone through one pregnancy. She'd always been a parent to just one little boy who had very recently grown into a teenager who was resembling something a lot like a man. And he also had recently become a werewolf, but that was a story for another day. But Melissa hesitated. 'One' felt like the wrong answer here. 'One' almost felt like it'd be a lie, she realized. She stared down at Nancy, who was awaiting her answer with bated breath, and finally Melissa replied, "Three."
"Three kids?" Nancy asked, surprised to hear the same number as she herself was a mother of. Melissa had answered that way on purpose. She'd wanted this mom to be able to relate to her as much as possible. "Well… well then how would you feel if one of them died?" she asked, a little shakily, like she was scared of how Melissa would answer.
Melissa answered sadly, "One of them did die." She thought about that fact sadly for a moment, and then elaborated. "Only about a month ago, my fourth child, Allison, was killed. You asked me how many kids I have. I have three boys left," she explained.
Nancy looked up at Melissa, clearly having never expected that answer in a million years.
"My son Scott was a wreck. I don't think he could have survived this past month if he didn't have my shoulder to cry on whenever a day came where he particularly missed her," Melissa told Nancy.
Unbeknownst to both women, Scott had just arrived at the hospital bearing dinner for his overworked mom. He was not quite at the doorway to the room, yet already listening in with his heightened alpha hearing. Upon hearing what his mom was saying, he paid closer attention.
"And Allison's father needed to stay strong for Isaac," she continued to explain. "As strong as he could be. Of course he was a wreck too, but at least they were able to miss her together. Isaac confided in me once that it meant a lot to be able to sit there with him in the silence. To have someone else who missed her every minute of every day too."
"And my brother Stiles," Scott said as he walked into the room, startling Nancy, "feels guilty for Allison's death all of the time," he said somberly.
"This is my son Scott," Melissa explained, her heart beginning to swell with emotion. Scott somehow had overheard everything she'd said and completely understood where she was coming from.
"And my mom here keeps telling Stiles that it wasn't his fault. The rest of us sometimes forget that he needs to be reminded, so it's really an important job."
A few tears escaped from Melissa's eyes and she smiled warmly at her son, hastily wiping her cheeks.
Scott and Melissa both looked over toward Nancy and saw that her face was tracked with tears too.
"You named your son Stiles?" the woman asked, and Scott and Melissa both let out a brief laugh.
"No," Melissa replied.
"His last name is Stilinski," Scott explained, "and so the nickname just kind of was something he chose many years ago, and it stuck."
Nancy nodded, but she seemed distracted by her own thoughts, and not really paying attention to the answer
"I… I guess you're right," the car crash survivor told them softly after a minute of consideration. "My boys will need me. Of course I still care about them enough to not want to hurt them worse by killing myself. I wasn't… I wasn't really thinking about-"
"-I know," Melissa reassured the woman gently. "You weren't thinking clearly. You were in a state of extreme grief. It happens."
"It surely does," a doctor in a white coat said, walking through the door. Melissa smiled. The psychiatrist had arrived. And just in time, too.
"I'm gonna leave you two alone, to talk," Melissa said. She followed Scott out of the room.
"I brought you some Lo Mein," Scott explained softly, handing the bag of Chinese Takeout to Melissa.
"Thanks," she replied gratefully, grasping it in her hand.
"So…" Scott began a bit nervously. "You have four children?"
Melissa shot an equally nervous smile back at him. "Well, not really," she told him. "The grief I'd feel if I lost you…" she trailed off, not wanting to consider that possibility. "It'd be different. You're my only son. It's true." She reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace. She thought about how she'd seen him shot in front of her eyes once, before having any idea that supernatural stuff might be real, let alone that Scott himself would be able to miraculously heal. She thought about how, after learning he was a werewolf, she started fearing for his life far more often, because of all of the crazily dangerous situations he and his friends found themselves in. She breathed in his scent and remembered how desperately she wanted her baby to outlive her. Scott didn't pull away from the hug, but rather waited until she chose to slowly let go. "But," she continued, trying to find her words… "But…"
"…but you loved Allison," he finished for her softly, understandingly, and it was in moments like these that Melissa felt like her son was clearly worthy of his True Alpha title.
"I was so sure she'd be a part of our family, forever," she quietly commented. It was true. Even if Allison didn't become her legal daughter-in-law by marrying Scott, she'd probably end up with Isaac who was a boy Melissa had felt like she'd pretty much adopted. And if that hadn't happened, Allison still had been Lydia's best friend, and Lydia's banshee life had made her such a close friend to Scott and Stiles as of recent… Allison would have somehow always remained a part of Melissa's life, Melissa was sure of that.
Melissa had always kind of wished for a girl. She loved her boy more than life itself, but sometimes she wished for a person whose hair she could help put up in a do for a school dance. Someone who would borrow jewelry from her. Someone who, when she was not even in middle school yet, would confess to experiencing her first crush, at which point Melissa would be able to impart wisdom on her of the kind that is never quite appropriate when talking to your son. She would have loved to have been able to look on at a toddler playing with dolls in her bedroom, to be able to sew outfits for that daughter's dolls just like her own mother had done for her when she was a girl.
Melissa had gotten everything she could have wanted from Scott, she had. But still, raising a boy had involved none of those things. And Melissa had not gotten any of those things from Allison either. Allison wasn't her daughter.
But Allison didn't have a mother. Even before Victoria died, Melissa could just tell Allison was in need of a "mom", someone more than just a "mother. Allison had latched onto Melissa, in the absence of having a mom of her own, a real one who she felt comfortable around, who exuded the kind of warmth that all kids need… Allison's parents were intense, Melissa had quickly realized. She had talked to Victoria a few times and had been sure she'd cared about Allison. Victoria had not wanted Allison to get hurt. But Melissa remembered the night that Victoria had died, by means of a knife through the heart.
Melissa had been just coming into the hospital parking lot, ready to start a shift, when she'd seen Allison and her father leaving. The girl was visibly broken. Broken directly because of a choice her mother had made. Melissa had walked up to the two of them and found out what had happened, and Allison had looked up into Melissa's eyes in a way that reminded her of how Stiles often looked at her. Stiles, the boy who had not too long ago, while completely exhausted, scared, and in need of comfort had called her 'Mom' without even realizing his error. Melissa knew she was the closest thing to a mom Stiles that currently had, and he knew that Allison had been slowly beginning to see Melissa in a similar light.
Melissa wondered if Allison would have come to her once she was older, and getting married, or having a baby. Melissa hoped to get remarried herself one day, and truthfully she'd felt closer to Allison than she ever had to any of her female coworkers. She didn't have female friends. She had male friends. Lots of guys in her life. It had just happened that way. She was friendly with her female acquaintances, but the people she cared most deeply about had not ended up being women. She was happy, surrounded by men. But Allison… Allison would have probably been her choice when, in her hopefully not too distant future, she needed to ask someone to be her Maid of Honor. And now… now Melissa figured if she ever got remarried, she'd skip that tradition altogether, in-part because of Allison not being able to be there to stand up with her: an adult Allison, who'd actually gotten the chance to graduate high school and turn into the beautiful woman Melissa had known she would have become.
Later that night, long after Scott had gone home, Melissa helped move Nancy to be in the same room as her sons. Three hospital beds, for three injured souls. The boys had a few broken bones, and one of them had needed emergency surgery, but like Nancy, they'd heal with time.
Scott fell asleep that night thinking about how Melissa had grown to think of his friends… and his once girlfriend… as her own children. He couldn't help but shed a few tears into his pillow at the thought. His chest ached at the thought. He could still remember Allison's infectious smile. Unfortunately, what was more vivid in his mind was the image of blood starting to come out of her mouth as she died in his arms. He wondered if he would've been right, had he not died. There's no such thing as fate, she'd said, but he hadn't cared. There's no such thing as werewolves. He'd been so sure that they'd end up together one day. Would he have just ended up with Kira, or some new girl, or would he have somehow found his way back to Allison had she lived? He tried to imagine growing old with Kira, and he knew he could be happy. He tried not to imagine growing old with Allison a permanent member of the family, with Stiles her honorary brother-in-law, and Isaac too, and all of them happy together, his mom who he loved so much a wonderful mother to all three of the people who had been forced to bury their own.
He tried so hard not to imagine that.
When Melissa came home, her son was fast asleep, and she walked by his bedroom, smiling at the sight, hoping his dreams were peaceful. It was a habit, making sure her baby was tucked in and safe, even now that he was practically all grown up. But this night, she thought about how she didn't feel complete, knowing this one child of hers was safe and sound. She felt a slight pang at the thought of being unsure of if Stiles and Isaac were in similar states. She walked over to her own bedroom.
"How many children do you have?" Nancy had asked her. Three, Melissa now realized was her most truthful answer, and she felt sure it always would be. Four, but one who is sadly, no longer alive. She didn't need to feel like she'd never given her son siblings, or like she'd never had a daughter. She knew Scott had brothers in Stiles and Isaac. She knew, in a way, that Allison would always be hers too, and not only Chris's. She changed out of her scrubs into a comfortable shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and then climbed beneath the covers, turning off the night on the bedside table.