Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. Lyrics belong to Florence and the Machine.
A/N: We got to see Erica's wolfy face! Oh lordy! Ha! I was so worried that I wouldn't know what it looked like before this chapter was posted and then boom! There it was! Super awesome! I was so glad for the sideburns – it keeps the genders pretty neutral with everything.
Great episode last night, am I right? Granted, I watched it this morning but it was still awesome.
Also, this chapter has something special for y'all. Because kissing is fun.
Enjoy!
Big Empty Houses
By: Ginny
I'm going out
I'm gonna drink myself to death
And in the crowd
I see you with someone else
I brace myself
Cause I know it's going to hurt
But I like to think at least things can't get any worse
Previously:
Paige dragged herself out of her bed and glanced around. Her room was just as it had always been. The only difference was that the pile of blankets on the floor was empty and cold.
And just like that, she was back in a big, empty house. Alone.
The school was a buzz with gossip as it always was. As it always, always was. Apparently the golden couple had broken up and now Jackson was taking the new girl, Allison Argent – Scott's ex-girlfriend – to the winter formal. Paige had almost forgotten about the winter formal… it wasn't like she was going to go, but it wasn't like anyone was going to ask her. Once, when Jackson was pretend-flirting with her, he had mentioned the dance. She had blushed at the time and stuttered up a storm. Now, she probably would have turned her nose up at the human boy and walked away.
Wyatt had been especially kind to her that morning and had even asked her if she could give him a ride home after lacrosse practice.
"It would be nice to ride with you," he had said. "It's Friday, we should have a movie night."
Lunch rolled around and her head was in a muddle. When she entered the room, she saw Scott and Stiles, but she didn't know if sitting with them was an open-initiation kind of thing. Could she consider them friends? Or lunch-buddies? Or just boys stuck in the same situation as her? When Stiles waved her over, she let out a breath and seated herself in what she figured would be her usual spot.
"I was paid a visit last night," Scott explained before she was even fully in her seat.
"By the alpha?" she guessed.
"Yes. And Derek."
Her heart skipped a beat. "Derek was there? Was he alright?"
Scott's face darkened. "Oh, yeah. He seemed fine. Just fine. There's something you should know. He's joined Peter. Apparently Peter convinced him that his sister's death was an accident and that he's only killing people who helped with burning down his house." After he took a swig from his water bottle, he continued, "They want me – us, to join them. I told him no."
"Derek wouldn't join him," Paige protested. He just wouldn't. It was just something he wouldn't do. C'mon! Last night Peter had been beating the shit out of Derek. What could have changed so fast?
"He did. He defended him right to my face."
"Derek would never help the man who killed his sister."
"Paige, I know you think you know Derek. You probably even love him, but –"
"I don't love him," she interrupted. Where the hell was that coming from?
"Either way, I know what I saw and heard. I'm not making this up. It doesn't matter how well you know that man – he always has his own agenda and he will use you."
Her tray broke. She didn't even realize she had been clutching it so tightly. And then something inside her broke. "Fine. He's with Peter now. I believe you." She didn't want to admit it – but Scott had no reason to lie. "But I want to talk to him myself. Then I'll accept it." With a whirl, she stood, no longer hungry.
Pausing, she thought for a moment. "Do you think they'll come for me?"
Stiles snorted. "I'd be surprised if they didn't."
All day she waited, but if there were any werewolves lurking around, they weren't showing themselves.
Finally, she returned home and braced herself. Derek knew no one would be home. If he and his uncle were going to show up – now would be the perfect time. She was alone – she was vulnerable. Immediately, she concocted a plan. Before she even got out of her car she sharpened her senses and listened for any sign of life inside her house. There was none. That was… odd.
She busied herself with homework, with a book, with laundry. All the while, she waited and focused and just really wanted to see for herself that Derek was all right. The alpha was always a problem and always would be a problem. Her main concern was her friend… ex-friend?
But see, homework, books, laundry – it wasn't cutting it for her. And there were real threats out there, lurking and waiting and they'd attack soon. If it wasn't the alpha, it was the hunter. So, she practiced. It was something she had taken to doing with Derek was out running errands and she had nothing else to do. Standing in front of a mirror, she would focus so intently… so patiently. And slowly, she would change one part of her or another.
First, her eyes. She would watch her reflection's eyes go from an indescribable grey-blue to the bright yellow.
Then, her claws. She would bring them out, one by one and then retract them in the same order.
Then, her fangs. She would watch them elongate and sharpen and the first time, she'd thought it might look cool to run her tongue over one of her canines. Luckily, being a werewolf included super fast healing powers, otherwise she wasn't sure she would have been able to eat dinner.
And finally, her entire face. That was the most difficult. But slowly, her muzzle took form and her jaw sharpened a bit and damn, she looked like a nightmare come to life. And she really still couldn't get over the facial hair. Every image of herself she had ever had growing up had never involved sideburns. Yet there they were. And they itched like a motherfucker.
True, it was frightening but she had learned… these were her powers. This was her strength.
Plain Paige Flanagan, no longer. She was she-wolf. And she had better practice being a she-wolf, before the other wolves took her down.
Finally, it was time to pick up her brother.
Pulling into the school parking lot five minutes early, the way she always was, she put the car into park and leaned back in her seat. A face appeared in her window and she damn near screamed.
It was Peter – his face completely healed. But that wasn't why she recognized him… it was the glowing red eyes.
Fight or flight, Flanagan, she coached herself.
When he stepped away from the door, she took a deep breath to steady herself and then she hesitantly unlocked the door and removed herself from the safety of her car. If he had wanted to kill her, he would have done it. And even when she refused his offer… well, he'd let Scott live as well.
Out in the open air, Paige felt a little better about the whole situation. And then she felt even better when she caught sight of Derek just three steps behind Peter. But she only glanced at him briefly. Here he was, with the alpha. And that confirmed everything Scott had been trying to tell her at lunch. At least he seemed like he had healed from his ordeal yesterday – she hadn't gotten the best look, but he didn't smell like blood anymore.
"No," she said simply. She was overwhelmingly proud of herself when her voice didn't shake.
Peter only smiled his very gentile smile . "I see you've already spoken to Scott," he purred. "But Scott doesn't listen to reason."
"You want to keep killing people," she argued.
"People who killed my family!" he finally snapped. Then he pointed back to Derek. "People who killed his family!"
This time, Paige spared him a glance. He looked healthy enough. Any of his wounds from last night would have already healed. And that made her angry. So what? The physical wounds had healed and he could just forget about what this man had done? Did his sister mean nothing to him? No… Paige knew that wasn't true. Derek sometimes spoke of his sister – mostly in passing and he always frowned immediately after saying her name, as though he had forgotten that it hurt him to speak of her. In Paige's eyes, it didn't matter that it was an accident. Not one bit.
"You're with him now?" she asked. This time her voice did shake a bit.
All he did was give a curt nod.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. She could hear his heartbeat. It was a welcomed sound, but now… she felt so betrayed.
Briefly, she stared at the ground, collecting her courage, before she lifted her head and repeated, "No."
"I don't think you realize something…" Peter smiled and took a step closer to her. She took a step back and vaguely remembered when she first met Derek and he had approached her like a predator. This was a million times worse. "I'm not asking. I don't ask. I didn't ask Scott if he wanted to be changed. I didn't ask you. And I don't have to ask him." He pointed with his eyes and Paige followed his gaze.
In the doorway, a couple of lacrosse players were chitchatting and joking around. In the throng of testosterone stood her baby brother.
Wyatt hadn't noticed her yet.
"I can change him…" came Peters voice in her ear. When had he gotten that close? She was too scared to move. The she-wolf was cowering. "I can kill him… I can make you kill him. That's the choice I'm going to give you. Or, of course, you could help me get vengeance on very, very terrible people." He spun her around. "You don't understand. These people aren't innocent. They did horrible things and they need to pay for it."
One gulp later, and she finally said, "When people do horrible things, my father puts them in jail. That's how I deal with things, too."
Focus, she whispered to herself.
When Peter's eyes narrowed, she knew what he was seeing: her eyes glowing a beautiful yellow. "Leave my brother out of this," she said simply. "If you don't, I'll kill you."
"Or die trying," Peter threw in.
"Or die trying," she agreed. And she would.
In the distance, the chatting was winding down and Paige watched as Peter and Derek shared a look and then walked away. "You're a bastard," she whispered into the wind. She knew Derek could hear her, though – her ears were still trained onto his pulse and it gave a little jump as she spoke. For added effect she said, "I hate you…"
Maybe she felt guilty. Maybe not. Either way, tears pricked at her eyes and when she felt one slide down her cheek, she pushed it away.
"Sorry I'm late!" Wyatt came bounding over. "Want to rent a movie, or something… Are you crying again?" he asked, pushing her limp brown hair from her face.
"No," she answered instinctively. "A movie would be great."
After some hesitation, Wyatt finally gave a little smile and then off they went.
"If you jump one more time…" Wyatt muttered.
"You know I hate scary movies!"
"The Final Destination is not really scary. There aren't any ghosts, ghouls, werewolves, zombies, or vampires – but I guess that last one has been pretty much ruined by the media at this point, am I right?"
Paige sighed and stuffed some more popcorn into her mouth. "This movie has more suspense and gore to outweigh any mythical creature, I guarantee you." Well, maybe not an alpha werewolf, she thought miserably. Those motherfuckers are terrible.
Suddenly, Wyatt propped his feet up onto the coffee table. "Oh… this is my favorite part – best death of the whole movie," he said, grinning ear to ear.
"You… are sick," she muttered, preparing to jump again.
And then, just as the pressure reached it's maximum and the guts flew everywhere – a noise distracted Paige. She jumped, screaming this time and even Wyatt startled into a standing position. But the noise wasn't coming from the TV screen. Someone was knocking on the window. Her brother got up to investigate before Paige could pull him back.
Would Peter come here to kill him? Even knowing that their mother was right upstairs?
"McCall?" Wyatt exclaimed.
"Scott?" Paige came to stand beside her brother as he opened the window.
The wolf poked his head in, glancing at Wyatt before blurting out, "Paige, I need you."
Paige looked between the two boys. Could she really just disappear into the night with some random boy while her brother was standing right there? It would mean too much explaining… but she knew that sound in Scott's voice. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong and from one werewolf to another, he had come to her for help. She couldn't refuse him, knowing that he'd do the same for her.
One deep breath later and she simply said, "Wyatt, I'll explain later. Tell mom I went out with some friends." And then she slipped right out the window. Scott took off running and Paige followed, easily keeping pace. "What's wrong?" she asked, when they burst into the forest.
"Jackson. Peter knows that he knows about us," the boy explained. "I think they're going to kill him."
"You want to fight the alpha?" she stopped dead. "Over Jackson?"
Scott grabbed her arm and said, "Peter is busy. It's just Derek."
Paige ripped herself from his grip. "Derek would never kill Jackson."
"Fine," Scott snapped, frantically glancing into the wooden abyss and then back at her. "Don't help me." And off he went.
Derek… what was he doing? What was going through his head? She wished she could ask him. She wished she could just corner him, push him up against a wall and demand answers from him. For some reason, he never truly divulged anything unless she twisted his arm, metaphorically. Physically pinning him should do the trick. And the only way that was going to happen… was if she followed Scott.
It was more than easy to catch up and Scott had the grace to not question her change of heart. As they got closer to their destination – the remains of Derek's house, she realized – Scott put a finger to his lips and rounded the house. Silently, she followed and they entered through a window on the second floor. The room wasn't uninhabitable, and while some parts of the walls were discolored by fire it was in pretty good condition. Actually, some of the furniture looked to be worn, but not fire damaged. And she could smell Derek everywhere. Old, new, every kind of Derek-scent met her nose. This was the room he stayed in when it was safe for him to hang out here.
She sharpened her senses and instinctively picked up on Derek's voice. He was ranting.
"There's no one here," he shouted. "And there's a reason. No one cares that you drive an expensive car. No one cares that you have perfect hair, and no one cares that you're captain of the lacrosse team."
Scott exited the room quickly and quietly and on habit, she followed just in time to hear him proclaim, "Excuse me. Co-captain."
Paige took in the scene with a heavy heart. There was Derek, gaping up at Scott – his claws glittering in the moonlight. Jackson was sitting on the stairs, and she could practically feel his pulse as it travelled from his body, up the wooden stairs and vibrated against the soles of her feet. The boy was terrified. Derek honestly had brought him here to kill him. "I'm a predator, not a killer," he had said once – and been wounded that she would think otherwise. Yet, here they were. Is this what Peter could do?
"Paige?" Jackson nearly squeaked out.
"Don't tell Wyatt," was all she had time to say before Scott jumped clear down the staircase without his feet ever touching a single stair. When he landed, he had already changed. Paige took her time, however, and with each step downward, she let another part of her shift.
Practice had made perfect. And she felt bad-ass.
By the time she was at the bottom, beside Scott, she was the she-wolf: strong and powerful and beautiful. And she would protect this boy with her life.
"You might want to get out of here, Jackson," she stated lightly.
Jackson scooted back a bit and she realized he would probably never make a fake pass at her again… knowing now that she could quite literally eat his head off. It almost made her giddy with excitement.
Her giddiness was short lived, however, as Derek growled. And there was the wolf to match the she-wolf. Only, his eyes were a striking blue.
"Move," he demanded.
Scott voiced his dissent while Paige just shook her head.
Derek glanced between both of them. When his gaze remained on Paige a bit too long, she frowned. Finally he said, "Fine. I'll kill you both."
Instantly, she fell into what probably passed for a defensive stance. She had never fought a day in her life and dealing with Peter was the only experience she had fighting a werewolf… except for the night of the full moon. She and Derek had tussled a bit, but that had been pure instinct. Maybe instinct would drive her now?
And then, the world exploded.
Paige briefly heard Derek say something, but all she was focused on was the bright light that had invade the room and swallowed up her eyesight. Throwing herself to left, she rolled and crouched by a wall, trying to blink the sunspots from her eyes.
There were gunshots ripping across her hearing and into the room. The metallic scent of blood filled the air and she wondered if she had been shot. But no – her vision cleared and she realized it was Scott. The boy hadn't moved from the center of the room and a bullet had gotten him in the gut. He toppled off to the left as well, and Paige grabbed his arm to bring him down next to her. The blood was getting on her hands, but she didn't care as she pressed down to keep pressure on it. She had heard that somewhere a movie.
"Paige, Scott." She glanced up. Good, Derek seemed unscathed. "Go!" He pointed out the back.
But the gunfire was still going on. He needed to come with them. Paige couldn't leave him here.
"Not without you," she shot back. Scott only grit his teeth.
"Get him out of here!" the beta argued.
So, she stood and grasped Scott's upper arm, dragging him to his feet as well. And then, she gave him a nice hard push towards the door. The boy didn't need to be told twice as he stumbled from the house and into the safety of the woods.
Paige, however, stayed.
In another world, she might have been scared. The fact that there were hunters outside the door might have paralyzed her with fear. But she was not that girl anymore. She was a she-wolf and she was not going to leave without Derek, the stubborn, God-forsaken man. He might have come here to kill a teenaged boy. He might have joined up with his murdering uncle. He might have told her not to get her hopes up because things would never work between them. But for some unknown reason, she felt like she had to protect him – like she had to be loyal to him. Maybe she did love him. Maybe she was just a nice person. Maybe she had left him one too many times and none of those situations had ended well.
Either way, she repeated, "I'm not leaving you."
With a growl, the wolf pushed himself up, paused in case of bullets and crossed the room in a single step. He pushed her up against the wall and growled again. This time, she growled back. The wolves wouldn't give up their dominance. He tried to shove her, but she had already grabbed onto his forearms, so he just stumbled along with her.
Finally, he smashed her so hard against the wall that she felt her bones groan.
And then, his lips were on hers.
It was a short lived, gritty battle for dominance and the fangs kept getting in the way, but it was the best kiss Paige had ever had. One of his canines slipped and cut into her bottom lip. His mouth closed over the cut and sucked crudely at the injury. Paige let out a groan that had nothing to do with pain.
"They will follow you and Scott unless I distract them," he explained when he finally pulled away. He shook her a bit. "Go!"
This time when he shoved her, she allowed herself to be thrown. She met his blue eyes just once more before taking off out the back door. Maybe thirty yards from the house, she heard his roar. He was in pain, she knew instinctively.
Slowly, she allowed herself to fall to her knees. What had just happened? She had been watching a movie with her brother, gotten a request for help by Scott, took off into the night, crashed in on Derek trying to kill Jackson, gotten attacked by hunters, gotten kissed by Derek and then left Derek to be captured by the hunters as some kind of distraction so that she and Scott would be safe. Yeah… that summed it up nicely. But it didn't matter what kind of cute little mental package she put it in – she had left that man to die.
Scott! Shit! Paige focused on the woods, looking, searching for her… friend? Yeah. Her friend. He had been shot. She needed to help him. If she couldn't help Derek, she would help Scott.
With her nose twitching, she set off in the direction his scent was coming from. At full speed she was just about there – so close and then… her eyes caught something in the distance. A man, standing over… Scott's body?
Oh God, a hunter. A hunter had found Scott and finished him off!
With a soft growl, Paige acted on instinct and threw herself at the man. Her aim rang true and together they rolled in the dirt before she landed on top. Her claws out and ready to go (to do what, she had no clue, because in her right mind she never would have killed someone willingly, but this was the she-wolf and the she-wolf didn't question protecting her own kind) she pulled her hand back and… recognized the face staring back at her.
The vet.
Maybe she still felt guilty for when she had helped Derek kidnap him, because she instantly hopped off of him.
"You're Scott's boss," she accused.
"Yes…" He pulled himself up hesitantly and then brushed the leaves from his pants. "And you are…?"
"Scott's friend," Paige answered, not wanting to give her full name.
"Then, Scott's friend, we should help him." Paige glanced back at the boy to find a nasty sight. He was pale, feverish, and his wound was literally smoking. "Wolfsbane," the vet explained, going to Scott's side. "Can you lift him? You're a bit stronger than me." He gave her a friendly smile and Paige had no choice but to bend down and lift Scott up. It was effortless, but she didn't like the idea of having both her hands busy should they stumble into hunters.
Halfway out of the forest, Scott began to moan.
"It's okay Scott," the vet said. "You're going to be alright."
They picked up the pace and reached the animal clinic in no time at all. The vet whipped out his keys and opened the door. "Put him there," he gestured to the metal table. Gingerly, she placed her friend down.
Backing into the corner she had once crawled into in a fit of panic, she watched with trepidation as the doctor removed the bullet and cleaned the wound. Half her mind was in that room. The other half was somewhere far away, with Derek and the hunters and that kiss. She couldn't even appreciate the kiss because now she knew he was either captured or dead. And she had only just stopped imagining him to be dead this morning! She couldn't believe she left him there. It seemed, whenever he told her to scram, the consequences would be devastating. Last time she had left him somewhere to handle a situation, he had been persuaded by his uncle to kill people. Before that, she had run from the alpha at the school and left the man in a pile with a gaping hole in his back. She should have known better…
Suddenly, Scott spazzed. He took a deep exhale and jumped into consciousness. After he had a mild coughing fit, he glanced around.
"I wouldn't get up just yet," the vet informed him.
"Where am I?" he asked.
"You're fine, and your friend's here." Scott looked over at Paige. She tried to smile for his sake. Mostly, she was still lost in thought about Derek. "And I've given you something that should speed up the healing process," the vet explained.
"But you're a vet," Scott argued weakly.
"That's very true," he agreed. "And ninety percent of the time, I'm mostly treating cats and dogs."
"Mostly?"
"Mostly."
Scott faded out again.
"You know what we are," Paige finally spoke up. She tried to imagine how Derek would handle this situation. Probably with a scowl and his leather jacket. But Paige had always hated how her face looked when she frowned and she was wearing jeans and a hoodie.
"Yes," the vet replied. "I do."
And that was it. Because Paige couldn't think of what to say or what to do and she realized just how in over her head she actually was.
"He's in good hands?" she asked. The vet nodded and she sighed, "Then I'm going home. You think he'll be unconscious the rest of the night?" Once again, the response was a nod. "I'll come back tomorrow morning to check up on him…"
Halfway there, she remembered two things: she had told Wyatt she would explain things later and the nest of blankets would still be empty.
Maybe she should just never go home.
Preview:
She pushed her cup of tea even farther away from her. "So, what's the plan?"
He frowned, but said nothing.
"… You don't have a plan, do you?" she finally inquired.
I hope that you see me
Cause I'm staring at you
But when you look over
You look right through
Then you lean and kiss her on the head
And I never felt so alive
And so dead
