Not a single person moved.
In the aftermath of Lydia's outburst, the social worker was terse and her lips pressed into a tight line. The woman was in her late fifties with graying black hair tied in a tight knot at the top of her head. She clutched her briefcase so tightly her knuckles turned white. "What is the meaning of this?" She bellowed, facing Peter and the baby. "Mr. Hale, I was made to stand outside for fifteen minutes and then I am greeted by this young woman screaming in my face! How can you expect me to believe that this is a safe environment for a three week old infant? I'm sorry, but I—"
Malia was drawn by the commotion downstairs and the scent of a stranger. The smell that emanated from the angry woman gave Malia pause; she got the distinct impression from the looks of terror on Lydia and Peter's faces that this was not a good sign. Derek was also looking extremely uncomfortable from his position in the doorway. Taking the blame for the tension seemed an appropriate option to Malia; Stiles was forever covering for her when she slipped up and she had started to catch on. "I did it," She announced.
"Did what?" The social worker's frown deepened as she turned to inspect Malia.
Malia made a face that Peter knew she'd learned from Stiles. Peter moved swiftly to Lydia's side as he spoke. "Lydia is terrified of spiders and—"
"I ate one." Malia finished, looking very smug that she'd helped. Malia beamed happily…while everyone else in the room cringed. Gazing up at Peter, she flashed him half a smile before returning to Derek's side.
Scoffing in annoyance and disgust, the social worker straightened her posture, "Fine. Let's continue with the evaluation, shall we?" Padding over to the table, she opened up the briefcase with more force than was necessary. "My name is Mildred Dwyer, I'm from the Department of Social Services. I've been assigned to your case." She took out several business cards and set them out. A pair of red-rimmed spectacles hung around her neck and she slipped them on. Mildred's onyx eyes narrowed sternly as she stared through the glasses sitting on the end of her hooked nose. "Temporary custody of Owen Michael Harris was granted to a Mr. Peter Hale of One Forest Lane in Beacon Hills, California." She clicked her pen several times as she glanced between the two Hale men, "Which one of you is Peter?"
Already, Peter was convinced this woman was the devil…but he put on a charming smile and settled across from her with the baby in his arms. "I am. Owen has been here since yesterday. I think—"
"I am not here to get a sense of your opinions on the subject at hand, Mr. Hale. I'm here to conduct an unbiased investigation on the safe placement of this child." Mildred interrupted coldly, turning her attention back to the manila envelope in her hand.
Lydia was instantly at Peter's side, her hand tightening on his shoulder. His eyes flashed blue with violent anger and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if Owen were not snuggled in his arms, he'd have ripped the woman to shreds. Standing at his back, her body pressed gently against his as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
The calming scent and soft touch of Lydia at his side instantly calmed Peter, despite the rage that churned in his gut. As long as he had her, everyone would make it out of this interview alive. Forcing a smile, Peter nodded as complacently as he could manage. "Of course, I understand…"
Scratching from the ballpoint pen in Mildred's hand was enough to drive anyone insane. After a moment, she looked up from her notebook. "I'd like to begin with understanding who the rest of these people are. Names and relationship to you."
Peter shifted slightly. "Derek Hale, he's my nephew." Going from the easiest to the hardest would be the best option. "Malia Hale is my daughter." His stomach turned as peered over at Lydia. "Lydia Martin is…" There was a long pause in which the social worker looked up, "A close friend of the family." Peter practically held his breath waiting for the devil-woman's response to that.
Mildred simply nodded curtly, "Anyone who will have access to the child will need to submit to a background check." She grasped several forms from another envelope, "You can mail in the application or go online to the department of social services to submit your request." Without waiting for a response, she barreled ahead, "Why did you choose to become a temporary guardian to Owen Harris, Mr. Hale?"
"I was the one who came upon Owen after his mother's body was found…" Peter explained. "There was an instant connection between us. Finding out that he had no family or anyone to take him in prompted me to take action. I felt that Owen needed the stability of a loving home and there's nowhere else he'll be better cared for." Owen was snuggled in the crook of Peter's neck, happily sucking his fist. The baby wasn't asleep but his soft blue eyes drooped sleepily.
Derek remained silent and stoic, his arms crossed over his chest. Malia fidgeted; she hated staying still for very was the one who had to keep the tightest reign on her emotions. The fear of losing Owen was mounting and she was already a bit unsteady from the corpse she'd seen. She needed to text Stiles about that…but Lydia knew the woman from her vision was already dead. This was far more important. "Peter is an excellent guardian. He really cares about Owen. You should see the beautiful nursery he's prepared."
"We'll get to sleeping arrangements in due time," Mildred peered up from her notebook again, her eyes flicked between Lydia and Peter several times before she returned her attention to her notebook. "Malia, I'd like to hear about your experience growing up with Peter."
Malia was deadly silent as she looked to Lydia and Peter for the answer. Brow furrowed and fists tightened, she wished she could slip into a crack. "I didn't grow up with Peter. I was adopted when I was born."
The slashing of Mildred's pen against the paper became almost deafening as she furiously took notes. "You were given up for adoption yet you've chosen to meet your birth father. What's the nature of your relationship at this time?"
Peter held his breath. If this investigation was going to hinge on Malia telling the social worker he was a suitable father, he should start packing up Owen's diaper bag. Lydia's hand was so tight on his shoulder he was afraid she'd hurt her delicate hand. Even Derek looked uncomfortable, shifting his stance several times.
Malia cocked her head to the side as she mulled over her response, "I'm spending an hour here today, getting to know my father. It was Lydia's idea."
"How do you know Lydia?" Mildred pressed.
"She's Stiles's friend," Malia plopped down beside where Peter was sitting, lacing her fingers on the table as if she were giving a serious interview. "She helps me with my homework. Thanks to Lydia's notes, I'm not failing math anymore! She also makes sure I don't get into trouble." She shrugged, "She's part of my pack."
If Mildred found Malia's use of the word 'pack' suspicious, it didn't show on her face. She nodded swiftly. "Derek, what's your role within the family dynamic?" Blinking several times, she was poised to make more notes. Already she'd filled several pages that would be typed up into a report later, determining the fate of Owen and the Hale family.
"Peter's my uncle," Derek replied dryly. "He's the only family I have left…" He caught the look on Malia's face and his lips curved up into a half-smile, "Except for Malia, of course." That seemed to placate her. "Peter is…really good with Owen. He cares about him more than I've seen him care about anyone or anything in a long time." Derek's gaze slid to Lydia, knowing this little family was everything Peter ever wanted but was too afraid to hope for. To see it ruined now would rip away whatever humanity Peter had left…and Derek refused to let it happen.
There was a long pause before Mildred stood abruptly. "I'll need to tour the house now…" Finally the pen was put down and she smoothed the fabric of her pantsuit. Without waiting for an invitation, she started in the kitchen and opened several cabinets and the refrigerator before touring the den. Once she finished with the rest of the rooms downstairs, she headed upstairs. Despite the woman's icy exterior, she seemed to soften slightly as she walked through the nursery.
Lydia's stomach churned with uncertainty, the images of the dead woman still keeping her off kilter. Peter cuddled Owen in one arm, the other wrapping around her waist as they stayed downstairs and waited for Mildred to finish the home inspection. His anger still burned hot, mingling with the very real fear that Mildred was going to take Owen from them. Peter wasn't going to allow it, even if it meant ripping this nasty social worker apart piece by piece. Nobody was going to hurt his family while he was living and breathing…
Malia tapped her foot impatiently. "This is taking longer than an hour," She murmured, her eyes meeting Peter's. Something in his face must have reached her for a moment later she slumped, staring down at the woman's notes. Suddenly her entire body tensed and tightened like a wire getting ready to snap. All over the notebook were words in loopy scrawl that told the story of a bizarre family living in the middle of the woods. It made mention of Malia's awkwardness, Derek's stoicism, and Lydia and Peter's odd relationship. It wasn't looking good. The social worker reappeared and Malia whimpered, "Please don't take the baby away! I was just starting to like it…him."
Peter bit back a groan, tightening his grasp on Lydia. This could not end well…
"Despite the unusual greeting I was treated to, I do not feel Owen is in any imminent danger." Her tone conveyed a hint of skepticism. "Given that you have adequate food, the child is clean and clothed, and I cannot detect any signs of abuse or neglect I see no reason to remove the child at this time." Placing her notebook into her briefcase, she slipped the glasses from her face and allowed them to hang on the beaded chain. "That being said, you will continue to remain in the social services database. We will be checking in periodically and surprise home visits can occur at any time." She picked up her briefcase again, "We'll be watching you, Mr. Hale. Good day to you." Stalking toward the door like a woman on a mission, she promptly let herself out and drove off.
Lydia sagged under the crushing weight of her stress. She barely made it into the chair as her vision swam again. Holding her head tightly, Lydia looked up at Peter, "I'm so sorry. I almost caused you to lose Owen." Hot tears burned in her eyes. "I couldn't control the vision, it overwhelmed me…"
"Lydia," Peter let out a rumbling sigh, "I'm not angry with you. There's nothing you could have done and nothing to be sorry for." Cupping her cheek gently, he frowned markedly. "Owen is where he belongs." Her ashy color and the haunted look in her eyes tore a hole in his gut. "What did you see?"
"There's another victim. She was laying in the mud, at the bottom of a grassy area. Her body was ripped apart but she fought so hard, her hands were torn from trying to get free. " Lydia's voice shook and she wrapped her arms tighter around her body to comfort herself. "All I could hear was rumbling in the distance." Her head ached fiercely.
Derek's expression darkened. "I think I know where the body is," He explained. "There's a field near the edge of town. There's a freight yard nearby that trains pass through. The rumbling can get pretty loud sometimes. Plus, it's not too far from the river, it could certainly be muddy there."
Malia was already tugging her phone out of her pocket, "I'll text Stiles." Within moments, she got a text back. "They're on their way to check it out. I should go with them."
"I'll drop you by there, it's on my way," Derek offered.
Peter placed Owen in the car seat. Reluctantly, he left Lydia's side and followed Derek and Malia outside. He drew in a deep breath, "I want to thank you…both of you."
Derek raised an eyebrow in surprise. Actual gratitude from Peter was something that didn't happen too often. "You've done a lot of harm in this world. You're cruel, insensitive, and obsessed with power."
"Oh stop, I'm getting all warm and fuzzy," Peter snarked, his expression darkening in annoyance.
"But," Derek continued, "There's something different about you. I think you could actually be good at this given half a chance…so I made sure that's what you got. Don't screw this up." This could be Peter's redemption and Derek wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of that.
Malia gazed at Peter, "Stiles says you're a self-serving bastard. But Lydia said if I spent an hour with you then I'd start to see the person you are beneath the surface," She stated baldly before she shrugged. "I should listen to Lydia more often."
Peter gritted his teeth. "Stiles said that…" Biting back on his anger was something Peter was not wholly experienced in but today was certainly giving him a lot of practice. He was going to have to deal with the issue of Stiles Stilinski later. Right now, he wanted to get closer to Malia and that meant holding his tongue. Besides, there was a banshee and a baby inside who needed him more than he needed to fight right now. "Let us know what you find."
Once Derek and Malia were out of sight, Peter headed back inside the house. The silence that hung over the house was unnerving. "Lydia?" Following her scent upstairs, it led him to the nursery. She had settled down in the rocking chair, the baby curled up against her. In the short time it took him to say goodbye to Derek and Malia she had managed to fall asleep. Getting up with the baby last night and her vision had sapped all her energy; he was glad she was able to find a moment's peace. He smiled to himself, carefully taking Owen and placing him in the crib.
Lydia's breathing was soft and even. Peter wanted to let her rest but she'd be disturbed if the baby got up. He slid his arms around her back, lifting her as easily as if it were Owen he was carrying. He brought her through the doorway to the guest bedroom. Carefully, he laid her on top of the comforter before slipping off her shoes. He tugged the covers back, easing her beneath them. Lydia was almost as beautiful in sleep as she was when she was awake. He brushed a strand of her silky hair away from her forehead, tucking it gently behind her ear. Peter took a step toward the door when Lydia's hand snaked out to catch his, "Stay…"
Her eyes were shut tight and Peter wasn't sure if Lydia was awake or asleep…but one thing he did know for sure, he didn't want to go. He eased around the other side of the bed, climbing in beside her. She needed him, either consciously or subconsciously, and he was more than willing to oblige. The moment his weight pressed against the mattress, Lydia snuggled into his warmth. Peter's arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her against the muscular plane of his body. Her head rested against the crook of his arm as they cuddled there. Peter wasn't sure exactly when he fell asleep but he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, this was where he was meant to be.
Just a little caveat, most social workers aren't horrible like Mildred! They're here to help...but for the purposes of this story, their caseworker is a bit of a B!
In other news, HOLY CRAP. How about that finale? If you haven't seen it yet...get on that! Peter was in rare form. Don't worry, he'll get saved. Hopefully by Lydia! Peter is just too valuable to be wasted like that, believe me. Have faith! And for your Peter fix, you can come here and read my fics! I'll continue to work on Worlds May Fall. I also have my Pydia one-shots to help you out too!
My beta Justvisiting80 is FANTASTIC. She doesn't even watch Teen Wolf (don't worry, I'm working on the situation) and she still edits my chapters so perfectly. Plus she live tweeted with me during the finale even though she had no idea what was going on LOL. Check out her work too! She's awesome!
Keep reading, reviewing, tweeting, tumblring, and PMing if you want more! The more feedback I get, the more I write and the faster you get chapters. It's what keeps me going, especially when the muses won't cooperate! Thank you all for your continued support!
-Marina