It took three days before the rusty cogs and wheels of the Beacon Hills justice system slowly began to turn. There was a massive amount of red tape that bureaucracy created, not that Lydia minded. It gave her three more days with Owen; three more days to try and come up with a strategy that would leave her soul intact. She'd been over every scenario a thousands times…but finally, the moment Lydia had been dreading arrived.

Owen got up only twice overnight but Lydia hadn't slept a wink. She lay next to Peter, her stomach churned with the fear that in just a few hours they would have to hand Owen to Deucalion. Undoubtedly, Deucalion would leave Beacon Hills and she would never see her sweet baby again. Her body ached and stung from hiding her sadness from Peter and Owen. At this point there were no more tears left, only the gritty redness that stung and burned her eyes.

The first light of dawn cast shadows on the edge of the bed and Lydia gave up pretending she was going to get any rest. Tiptoeing into the bathroom, she took a hot shower. Afterward, she painted her face with makeup and pasted on a fake smile that was fooling no one. Lydia padded into the nursery to collect Owen, who was just starting to stir. Last night she'd packed up the diaper bag with everything Owen could possibly need: warm clothes, his favorite blanket, enough diapers and wipes to last a few days, an unopened can of formula, a couple of toys, and a tube of diaper rash cream. Lydia had also taken the time to write instructions for Deucalion; she wouldn't chance the alpha werewolf messing up the child's routine. Owen needed stability above all else.

After a quick bath, Lydia changed Owen into one of the adorable outfits that Peter had bought him. Owen whimpered and whined at the coolness of the morning until Lydia snuggled him in a blanket and cradled him against her chest again. Owen chewed on his fist as Lydia grabbed the diaper bag and headed into the kitchen. It was time to give the baby one last bottle…

Lydia hummed softly. Her entire body tensed at the realization that she was not alone. "What are you doing here?"

Malia was sitting on the counter, swinging her legs unabashedly, "I wanted to help…I just don't know exactly how to do that." Malia let out an exasperated sigh, her eyes fixed on Lydia and Owen. Having been a coyote for nine years, she wasn't sure what the protocol was. Stiles hadn't been any help either. He had simply told her to stay out of it…but Malia couldn't stay out of it. Peter was her father, Lydia was pack, and that made Owen family. Malia would do anything for her family.

"Just being here is enough," Lydia continued to smile despite the pain. The façade slipped when Peter padded downstairs, fresh from the shower. His face was just as grim as hers but there was something darker that roiled beneath the surface. Lydia had seen that look before and it could only mean trouble. "Malia, can you finish feeding Owen? I need to talk to Peter alone."

Leaping up, Malia slipped Owen from Lydia's arms and nodded at the reminder to support his head. Malia settled down at the table, beaming.

Lydia walked into the other room, grabbed Peter's hand and pulled him outside onto the terrace. Her face was molded into a mask of anger.

"Lydia—"

"I know that look, Peter. That's your 'I'm about to go on a murderous rampage' face!" Lydia cut him off brutally. "I don't want to lose Owen any more than you do…but if Deucalion suddenly goes missing or ends up dead, they will come straight to our doorstep. You know that Sheriff Stilinski is just looking for a reason to lock you in a cell!" Lydia breathed raggedly, "Don't do this, Peter. Please."

Peter's expression darkened, "You were the one crying in my arms that you couldn't lose him Lydia." He watched the anger spread across her features and realized that he'd hit a nerve. "I feel the exact same way. Owen may not share my blood but he's mine…ours and I won't let anyone take him!" He growled, his fists tightened. "I've lost too many people in my life. I won't lose another one…"

Lydia wrapped her arms around her waist, "How do you think I'll feel when they haul you to jail and take Owen away from me anyway? Did you think about that?" She continued speaking without waiting for him to respond, "No! You only think of yourself, Peter." She hollered. "I'm already losing him, I can't lose you too!" Anger replaced sadness as she lunged forward and pushed him hard.

"You're wrong. I do think about other people, Lydia. I do nothing but think of other people!" Peter caught Lydia's arms and held her tight; he bent and kissed her hard to quiet her. He tangled his fingers through the damp strands of her strawberry blonde hair. Lydia's body melted against his and he kept his arm securely around her waist. "I won't be neutralized. I will not stand back and allow the people I care about to suffer. I'm always going to be the villain, sweetheart, you need to get used to that." He cupped her cheek, gazing down at her. Nothing short of death would stop him from fighting for this child.

Visibly deflating, Lydia rested her forehead against his chest for just a moment. "You don't have to be…" She pulled away, slipping back into the house. Owen finished his bottle and she made sure he was settled before placing him into the car seat. He whimpered and whined, his tiny legs kicking in annoyance. Lydia couldn't stomach the thought of eating. Instead, she watched Peter hawkishly as he made coffee for the both of them.

Malia instantly sensed the tension between Lydia and Peter, her teeth set on edge as she circled the table, crouching over where Owen was fussing. She looked up, her fingers brushing over the baby's wispy hair. "He doesn't like when you fight…"

"We aren't fighting," Peter replied curtly. "We are merely having a disagreement." He almost felt guilty at the way Lydia flinched, as if she'd been struck.

"That's the same thing as fighting," Malia huffed and let Owen grab her finger tightly. She smiled lovingly at the baby before glaring at Peter again. "So cut it out."

Peter met Malia's glare with an amused grin. There was no question at all that this girl shared his blood…

It struck Lydia how similar Peter and Malia were, despite not being in each other's lives until recently. They both possessed a snarkiness that shined through, even in the darkest moments. Lydia quietly accepted the mug of coffee Peter prepared for her. Their fingers brushed and she lingered for just a moment before she pulled away, "We need to go. I won't risk being late."

Peter nodded and carried Owen and the car seat into the garage. Malia grabbed the diaper bag and hopped into the back to sit beside the baby. Once Owen was all buckled in, she finally settled. Lydia climbed into the front seat, silent and stoic. Peter could tell that Lydia was nervous by the way she kept smoothing invisible wrinkles on her dress. The trip to Beacon Hills Police Department seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Sheriff Stilinski recommended they have backup in the event that the proceedings got rough…

Lydia slipped from the car first. She carefully removed Owen from the car seat and cuddled him close; she cast a dangerous look at Peter as if daring him to take the child from her. Instead, Peter opened the car door for Malia and took the diaper bag from her. Lydia was steps from the door when Derek gripped the handle and tugged it open for her. She flashed him a grateful smile but felt unable to speak through the lump in her throat. It was one thing for Malia to show support but for Derek it was quite another. His presence was very meaningful to Lydia and she could tell by the look on Peter's fact that it was for him too.

Deucalion was already standing in the hallway with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He stood back to admit Lydia into the interrogation room they'd commandeered for the morning. His eyes remained on the child, never breaking contact as he followed her into the room.

Mildred Dwyer sat at the head of the table, her expression sour and scrunched. She looked up, her inky black eyes filled with malice. "We'll begin the proceedings in five minutes," She allowed her glasses to fall back onto her chest as she took a sip of tea. There was no compassion at all in her expression as she removed the files from her briefcase and occasionally glanced at the assembled individuals.

Anger clawed at Peter's gut and twisted him up. Derek and Malia flanked Peter on both sides as if expecting him to lose control at any moment. Thankfully Owen remained peaceful and comfortable, his fist curled around a strand of Lydia's strawberry blonde hair. Deucalion remained terse and silent, his fingers laced. The longest five minutes of their lives passed agonizingly slowly…

Mildred sat back in her chair, glasses replaced on her face. "The Department of Social Services has reviewed this case carefully," She began, her chilly gaze sweeping over each of them. "The court has determined that Deucalion is the biological father of Owen Michael Harris."

Lydia's eyes fluttered shut. The last hope they had was torn away violently and without mercy…Deucalion was Owen's father. They had lost.

"However," Mildred pressed, "Given the fact that Deucalion has no permanent residence or income to speak of, coupled with the fact that he was estranged from Roberta for months before she gave birth, it has been decided by the court that it is in the best interest of this child that he remain in the custody of Peter Hale for the time being."

Lydia couldn't contain her gasp of surprise. Peter gripped her shoulder, unable to process everything that had just happened. Chaos erupted as Deucalion stood, slamming his fist down on the desk. "I will not be kept from my son!" He growled, his eyes glowing red with violent rage.

Mildred stared down her nose at him and issued one sharp command, "Sit!" She tightened her fist; the power that coursed from her did indeed force Deucalion back into his seat. The smell of electricity was thick in the air as she leaned in, the magic flowing through her and sparking in her onyx eyes, "I will not be intimidated." She frowned deeper, "You will be allowed supervised visitation with the child only at the discretion of Mr. Hale."

Surprise stole over Peter's features as he realized that Mildred knew damn well that they were not boring, private citizens of Beacon Hills. In this room alone there was a werecoyote, an alpha werewolf, a former alpha werewolf, a man who could fully shift into the form of a wolf, and a banshee. Oh, and a social worker who practiced magic on the side. Malia raised both her eyebrows, leaning in closer to Peter, "I knew she was a witch."

"We prefer the term druid, Ms. Hale," Mildred replied sharply. "This is the final word of the California Department of Social Services. We will revisit this topic in a month's time." She faced Deucalion again, "In the meantime, I suggest you set up a permanent residence and ensure you have sought counseling for your anger management issues."

Peter choked down a laugh at the look on Deucalion's face as Mildred shut her briefcase and strode out of the police station with her head held high.

Lydia stood and Peter enveloped her and the baby in his arms. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she cradled both of them close. She kissed Peter gently, her heart feeling as if it had shattered into a million shards and then been pieced back together again. Owen let out a tiny sigh, snuggling deeper against Lydia's shoulder. Malia nudged Derek, causing a smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. Justice had prevailed today.

While the Hales celebrated, Deucalion sulked in the corner. Owen was his son… He briefly wondered if this was karmic retribution for all the wrong he had done in his life. Swallowing back the anger that threatened to tear him apart, Deucalion's clawed fingertips dug into the desk, "Yes, congratulations. You should be quite proud of yourselves for keeping a child from his father." He growled.

Derek crept forward, ready to intercede if Deucalion lashed out. Peter too was standing at the ready, shepherding Lydia behind him. "We aren't keeping him from you," Lydia refused to remain silent. "You heard what the social worker said. You need a home and a support system and right now, you don't have either one. It takes more than blood to be a parent."

"I'm sorry, love, but I'm not going to take advice from an eighteen year old banshee playing house with a notorious psychopath and the wreckage of his broken family." Deucalion's claws dug deeper into the desk although his expression did not change.

"We're not broken," Malia snarled. "Twisted, maybe. Definitely weird… but not broken." Derek lunged for her but Malia was too fast; he wanted to stop her from agitating Deucalion any further. Unfortunately, Malia was just getting started. She stood directly in front of Deucalion, poking her finger into his chest. "Stiles told me that you hurt Derek, Scott, Peter…pretty much everyone I care about." She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not going to let you do the same thing to Owen. Mark my words, Deucalion, I'm not the only person in this room willing to fight to protect it…" Malia quickly fixed the pronoun, "Him."

"You are your father's daughter…" Deucalion chuckled derisively. He removed one clawed hand from the desk, circling Malia. "Perhaps he didn't tell you that I was the one who rescued Peter and Derek from the Calaveras. I paid a king's ransom to bring them home. I am not all bad, dearest."

"You paid to bring Derek home," Peter interjected. "And for that fact alone, I haven't ripped you to pieces yet. But if you lay one hand on my daughter, I'll see to it that you never see your son again. He'll never even know your name…"

Owen let out a wail of displeasure and Lydia sighed. "I am sick of all this fighting and you don't have to be psychic to know that Owen is too." Circumventing the desk, Lydia sent Malia to stand beside Derek again and gave Peter a warning glare. "It's occurred to me that you've never held your own child. You're right that it isn't fair…"

"Lydia!" Peter snarled.

Lydia whirled to glare at Peter, her strawberry blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. She nudged the chair with her leg, motioning for Deucalion to take a seat. Much to the surprise of everyone present, he sat eagerly and obediently. Lydia pressed a tender kiss to Owen's temple before she leaned in and slipped the infant into Deucalion's waiting arms. At first the baby fussed but after a few seconds, he settled in and snuggled into his father's chest.

Deucalion did nothing to hide the tears burning in his eyes. "He's heavier than I expected…" But he was perfect: ten tiny fingers, red rosebud lips, brilliant blue eyes, and wispy white-blonde hair.

"That's exactly what I said!" Malia exclaimed.

Lydia chuckled but Peter stared at her incredulously. Moving to his side, she stood toe to toe with him. "I know you're angry…"

"Angry?" Peter hissed, "Angry doesn't even begin to cover it, sweetheart. You handed Owen over to a madman!" He snarled, "What's to stop him from standing up and walking out of here with the baby?"

"Two werewolves, a werecoyote, and the entire Beacon Hills police force?" Lydia countered. "Look at him…" She motioned to where Deucalion was seated, staring down at the child in awe. "How would you feel if you knew that Malia was your daughter and yet you were kept from her? You could sit in the very same room and not even talk to her?" She frowned, "I love Owen more than I've ever loved anything on this earth. I want to protect him and care for him. I know you want that too…but we can't keep a father from his child. Owen would resent us forever."

Peter took a shaky breath. Damn it if Lydia wasn't right. Cupping her cheek gently, he sighed. "I suppose you're going to suggest that we allow Deucalion to have all the visitation he wants…"

"Within reason." Lydia caught Deucalion's gaze from across the room. They were in a small space, werewolf hearing aside. There was no question that Deucalion heard everything she was saying. "No more middle of the night surprises, okay?" She peered over at Derek, "And if I'm not around, I'm going to need you to act as a buffer."

Derek shook his head fervently, "Me? Why me? I don't want to babysit my uncle and Deucalion. I'll watch Owen all you want but not these two!"

"You're strong, you're not in school, and you don't need to work. What exactly is it you do all day?" Lydia probed.

"Mostly badger Scott and Stiles," Malia piped up. "I'll watch Peter and Deucalion!

"No!" Lydia and Derek replied in unison.

Lydia put her hands on her hips. "You have school, Malia. You want to do well so that you can graduate with Stiles, right?" Malia visibly deflated and Lydia knew she won the argument. "Speaking of which, you should find Stiles and get studying. You may have passed the algebra test but that doesn't mean you can slack off. Did you do the homework yet?"

Malia opened her mouth to protest but Lydia's look quickly shut it down. She slunk toward the door. "Fine…" She grumbled, "Can Stiles come over to meet Owen later?"

"No," Peter interjected.

"Yes," Lydia countered, folding her arms over her chest. Narrowing her eyes, she entered into a silent of battle of wills. Peter moved forward, his cobalt eyes flashing dangerously that it was his house and his rules. Lydia matched that look with one of her own that very clearly notified him that if he continued to argue he wouldn't be seeing her naked again for a very long time.

Peter let out an exasperated sigh, "Fine."

Beaming triumphantly, Malia skipped from the room. Lydia turned back to Derek. "As for you…I can't trust Peter and Deucalion alone in a room together. For Owen's sake, I need you to do this for me."

"Hey," Peter frowned.

Derek folded his arms over his chest, "If I must." He held back his smile when Lydia stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Derek ignored Peter's glare and headed for the door, "Just call me and I'll be there."

Peter and Lydia remained in the interrogation room with Deucalion. Owen was getting fussier by the moment. "He's getting hungry. We need to get the baby home, Deucalion," Lydia said gently.

Reluctantly, Deucalion stood and eased Owen back into Lydia's arms. "I want to thank you. You have shown far more kindness than I deserve." He swallowed hard. It was incredibly difficult for Deucalion to admit Owen was in good hands. Lydia reminded him so much of Roberta that his chest ached. Perhaps if he'd been kinder, perhaps if he'd been willing to bend, Roberta never would have run from him and he wouldn't be in this position. "I hope that you will allow me to visit my child again soon…" That statement was directed solely at Peter.

A large part of Peter wanted to send Deucalion back to whatever hole he'd crawled out of…but Lydia had made several valid points. He wouldn't want to be kept from his child by anyone. He also enjoyed Lydia's company and her body; to be deprived of both was simply not an option. "It seems we're having Malia and her boyfriend over this evening. I don't see why you can't sit down to dinner with us."

Deucalion nodded his assent, "Thank you." He took a deep breath. It took all the strength he'd gathered and left the room without another word.

"That was big of you, Peter," Lydia smiled happily, snuggling Owen closer to her chest. Peter's hand found its way to her waist as they headed out through the station. Lydia was seconds away from leaving the station when she heard Parrish holler her name. She turned and instantly knew that there had been another murder, it was written all over his face. Her eyes widened as she stared at him, "When?"

"Just now," Parrish was dragging his deputy jacket on. "It happened in broad daylight…three witnesses said that they saw a woman who looked like a beast come out of the woods. She pounced and stopped the car in the middle of the freeway. The Sheriff's already en route but he wanted me to tell you so you wouldn't hear it on the news…"

Lydia's heart was thundering in her chest. She took a shaky breath, "Jordan…just spit it out." Peter's grip tightened on her as he sensed her fear and she was grateful for the contact. It should have been devastating, the words Parrish spoke next—except Lydia already knew…

"I'm really sorry, Lydia," Parrish's voice was soft and kind. He laid a hand on her shoulder. "The victim was Natalie Martin. Your mother…"

Peter immediately plucked Owen from her arms, wrapping his free arm around her waist as she sagged. Lydia's consciousness waned. She heard Peter barking orders at Parrish, demanding an ambulance. Little by little, the world faded to black and Lydia succumbed to the void.


Finally! A new WMF chapter! My muse was suffering guys, thanks for hanging in. Your reviews, tweets, tumblrs and PMs really make all the difference. If I get positive reviews and you're telling me what you like, you get chapters faster. Please keep letting me know! It helps me focus and process things better... and I know how to keep ya'll happy!

I'm very proud to announce my beta JustVisiting80 has watched all the episodes of Teen Wolf now and while she may not be as obsessed as I am, she has been such a good sport. She's the best ever and I love her to pieces! She got these edits to me SUPER LIGHTNING FAST so I could get the chapter out to you! YAY JOSEPHINE! YAAAY!

Please, if you want more of this story, keep letting me know. My muse is being tricky right now and every little bit counts. Thanks so much for all your support!

-Marina