I don't own Teen Wolf, just my OC's and this story is unbeta so all mistakes made are my own. If you have any predicitions or just something to say about this story in general, leave them in the comments. I read every single one of them.
Sawyer was on edge. Her entire household had been silent for the last three days and it was setting her teeth on edge. No one had brought up the incident at the school, her mother had not said a word about her being a werewolf. She just carried on like she normally did and Sawyer was beginning to question whether that not actually happened.
Then she thought of Cassidy's screams and immediately put that thought to rest.
It was almost like clockwork now. Cassidy would go to bed with their mother by his side, hugging him, waiting until he fell asleep. The peace would only last a couple of hours until he woke up screaming in the middle of the night. Then it was either Sawyer or her mom that would rush to his room and stay with him the rest of the night.
The first time that it had happened, Sawyer practically ran through her door to get to him. She thought that something bad had happened and the Alpha had come after him. But when she got to his room to only see him sitting up in his bed, with tears streaming down his face, panting she almost felt relief. Sawyer felt a small amount of guilt for what was happening to her brother because she hadn't been there to help him. Instead, she had been with the Alpha practically helping him put his plan into motion. That whole night she had been useless and it was eating her up inside to see how much her brother was suffering because of it.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes Sawyer grabbed her phone to see what time it was. She groaned when she saw that it was still too earlier in the morning to do anything. "Six o'clock," She mumbled to herself, "Why do you have to be such a morning person, Sawyer?" She grumbled to herself.
With much annoyance and irritation, Sawyer swung her legs over the side of her bed. She stretched out her back, which was still sore from the other night. Then leaned down and grabbed the nearest pair of socks she could find, slipping them onto her feet. Classes were starting again tomorrow and she didn't how she was going to do it. She didn't know how she could go back to school and not think about all the things that she had done. She couldn't go back without thinking of the trauma all the others had suffered.
"Another day," She told herself as she got to her feet. That was starting to feel like her daily mantra, she would just deal with it another day. Right now, she had to focus on the main problems at home and how she was going to fix them.
It was odd, really, how her mother was acting. It wasn't malicious in any sort of way. She wasn't trying to actively avoid Sawyer. It was just like she was trying to figure out something on her own and Sawyer was a distraction. What honestly concerned Sawyer was the fact that her mother had come to the school with Chris Argent. Then she saw them talking after everything was over with. When they talked it seemed like they were familiar with each other? Yet, Sawyer can't remember a time when Argent or her mother ever could have crossed paths and met.
Sawyer paused right before she entered her kitchen. Standing there, staring blankly into her mug, was her mother. She was leaning against the counter top and seemed to be deep in thought about something. Taking advantage of not being seen, Sawyer took this time to truly look at her mother. She looked as if she had just woken up only moments earlier. Her blonde hair that was usually up was now tumbling down in waves that just passed her shoulders. Her face was free of any make-up and Sawyer could see the slight signs of aging. With a few wrinkles by the sides of her eyes and forehead, along with her smile lines. Her mother was wearing an oversized t-shirt that stopped at her upper thighs along with a pair of black leggings.
Sawyer opened her mouth to say something but stopped at the last second. She had never truly realized how young her mother still was. She still had that youthfulness to her and if she wanted to her and Sawyer could actually be mistaken as sisters. When she was younger, she had never realized it but now, as she looked at her mother, she thought about how hard it's must have been for her. Her mother had been eighteen when she had given birth to her. Eighteen. Sawyer was sixteen and she couldn't even take care of herself let alone another human being. Her mother had gone to school all while still taking care of her.
Sawyer might give her mother a lot of shit, but damn is her mother a fighter.
A bark sounded out and Sawyer looked down and glared at the dog who betrayed her. "Traitor," She whispered and bent down to pick Ozzy up. Most nights he slept in her mom's bedroom on the queen size bed. At this point, Sawyer was pretty sure that Ozzy thought that whole room was his since her mother hadn't slept in the bed in over a year.
Scratching his ear, Sawyer looked up to see that her mom was now looking at her. She blinked her green eyes a couple of times before smiling softly. "Sawyer," She said her name softly, "I didn't hear you come down."
"Yeah," She said awkwardly as she gestured upstairs with her finger, "I kind of just woke up." She then scratched Ozzy behind his ear. The stupid traitor let his tongue fly out of his mouth and panted in pleasure. She really hated that she had picked out such a cute dog. Cradling him like a child she looked at her mother nervously, "I didn't mean to startle you, I think this little rat just wants some food."
Her mother nodded her head and set her mug down on the counter. "I'll get him some food," She said softly and began moving around the kitchen.
Sawyer placed Ozzy on the ground and watched as he excitedly made his way to her mother. He began jumping up and down and barking at her as she got the food. Sawyer didn't know exactly what is was about this situation but she could feel tears begin to pool in her eyes.
When her mother turned her back around, Sawyer ran. She was a coward, couldn't face the silent and disapproving looks of her mother. She had just turned around and ran out the front door not even bothering to put her shoes on. She had never felt this way before, the feeling of being rejected by a parent. Of wanting someone you love to say something but all you get is silences and sad looks.
She needed a distraction so, Sawyer went to the only place that she could think of. She walked right next door to Scott's house. It was still earlier in the mourning and she knew that he or Mama McCall wouldn't be up. So, taking the same path that she had last time, Sawyer climbed her way to Scott's window and saw that it was still broke from the last time she had visited.
Pulling the window up, she leaned inside and saw that Scott was still, in fact, asleep. Taking her hand, she carefully started poking him in the face. Scott scrunched his face up and Sawyer watched as his brown eyes fluttered open. He rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and sat up facing her, blinking a few times as if he couldn't believe that she was actually there.
"Sawyer?" He croaked out "What are you doing here? The sun's not even up yet?"
Sawyer looked guilty, "Can I hang out here for a couple of hours?" She asked nervously, "It's just, things have been weird with my mom at home."
Scott was silent for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, "Sure," he then laid back down as Sawyer climbed her way through the window. She bounced a little on the bed but was able to stabilize herself as she got off. She yanked a pillow out from under Scott's head, much to his protest, and laid down on the ground.
"Try not to make too much noise," Scott mumbled into his pillow as he yanked a blanket over his head, "My mom's still here and I don't want to have to explain this."
"Don't worry," Sawyer said while letting out a huge yawn, "I sleep like a baby."
She then turned over onto her stomach and closed her eyes. It wasn't the most comfortable position but at least it was more comfortable than facing her mother. She knew that she would have to do it eventually but right now, she just wanted to get her own shit together. There was still so much that she had to do, and so did Scott.
When she woke, she would talk to Scott about training. She promised herself that she would. They couldn't keep putting this off like it was something that could be ignored. Especially with no Derek in the picture now.
As she was about to drift off to sleep Scott asked, "Wait, aren't babies notorious for not sleeping through the night?"
Lydia had the Hale journal for two nights now and she hadn't even gotten half-way through it. The seams on the journal itself were practically bursting because of how much information was in there. A book this size, Lydia would easily be able to eat up in a couple of hours. A day at most if she had other work to do.
But that was with subjects that she already had a base knowledge of. The supernatural was a whole other game in general. Something that she had never encountered before and she just wanted to make sure that she read everything carefully. However, it didn't help that the Journal wasn't alphabetized by creatures. Instead, it went by dates of the creatures and when they were first known to the world. It also contained a lot about symbols and their different meanings. Which ate up even more of her time as she continued to read it.
None of the information she had run across seemed familiar. She didn't really know what she was looking for. Lydia just knew that when she found it, she would know. Like with the janitor and how she knew that he was dead. Or how she knew that the Alpha wanted death and revenge against all the people that had wronged him. She still couldn't explain it but Lydia just knew that's what he wanted.
Almost ready to call it a day, even though the sun had barely risen, Lydia turned the page one more time. She glanced down at it lazily, skimming the page for anything that felt weird or was calling to her in some way. Her eyes then caught something, a symbol that she had seen before when she was a little girl. The symbol was on a necklace that her grandmother used to wear before she was sent away. She could remember hours of staring at that necklace.
It was like a bolt of lightning had hit her. She no longer was slouching in her chair, she felt a wave of energy rushing through her. Focusing now on the words that crossed the page, she carefully read them out loud, "The Triquetra has many different meanings in the supernatural community. For instance, to a werewolf, it represents the three ranks: Alpha, Beta, Omega. While for others it can represent the balance of nature or the cycle of life."
Lydia sat back in her chair in shock, just what the hell was her grandmother into? She tried to think back to anything that her grandmother did that would be supernatural. Lydia was coming up with all blanks and she hated that. She hated not knowing what was going on, she hated not understanding the situation.
Nothing was coming to mind. Nothing her grandmother did seem too cultish or supernatural to her. Then again, she was only a little girl at the time that it had happened and everything seemed normal to her. Her grandmother would also sputter off different things at the most random of times but Lydia was told that was due to her illness.
One of the last few times that Lydia had seen her grandmother she had kept going on about the voices. "The voices are getting too loud," she would say, "I can barely hear my own thoughts anymore, it hurts too much."
She hadn't understood what she meant at the time but now Lydia's pretty sure that she does. The thought made her throat close up. It meant that her grandmother hadn't been crazy, it meant that she was part of the supernatural world. Which meant that Lydia was also part of that world.
Wiping away tears Lydia turned the next page and glanced down at the journal. Her heart then stopped as she saw the symbol that had been plaguing her thoughts for the past three days. The spiral shape she had created in the school. The one that had put Sawyer on edge, the one that she couldn't explain about how she knew it.
She quickly read over the notes and finally found what it meant. "Revenge," She breathed out. The spiral shape had meant revenge. When she screamed the other night, she felt the Alpha's anger at people, but not just random people. He had felt anger at people that had wronged him and he wanted them dead.
Piecing the puzzles together, Lydia could see a picture starting to come together. Something terrible had happened to the Alpha and now he wanted revenge for it. So, that meant that something must have happened to him in Beacon Hills. Something, she's guessing, that was a terrible crime. Which would be found on a police report. Lydia then slammed the journal shut and started searching for a coat. She knew one person in all of Beacon Hills that had access to all crimes.
Grabbing her car keys, she bounded down her staircase and flew out the door. It was time to pay the Stilinski residence a visit.
When Sawyer opened her eyes next, a light was shinning in through the window. Scott was no longer lying on his bed and was currently missing from the room. She got up slowly, stretching out all the kinks in her neck, and looked around. She saw that there was a pile of old clothes lying on the ground next to her. They were obviously boys' athletic clothes and seeing as she had no other options, Sawyer put them on.
It was different. The pants were a pair of red basketball shorts that looked to be a size too big for her. They were baggy around her calves but somehow managed to fit her thighs perfectly fine. She could tell from the scent alone that they were a pair of Scott's old clothes from when he was younger.
The shirt was a wife-beater that was too large for her. It was so ill-fitting that the straps had started to fall down her shoulders. The scoop neck was plunging so hard that the top part of her sports bra could be seen. As she pulled the shirt up to her nose and took a deep sniff, she could tell that this wasn't Scott's. This was too big to be his, he would probably be swimming in the shirt as well, which made her wonder whose it was.
Finished with dressing, she carefully opened the door and carefully made her way downstairs. Once she arrived at the kitchen, she saw that Scott was sitting as his table eating a bowl of cereal. He held the box in one hand and seemed to be reading the back of it. As if he felt her presence, Scott turned his head and smiled once he saw her.
"You're up," He exclaimed with a bright smile of his face, "I thought you were going to sleep forever."
"No," Sawyer said as she rubbed the back of her neck. Her hair was still down and, in her way, "Just for a couple of hours."
"Well, that's good I guess," He then took a look at her appearance and frowned, "Sorry about the clothes, I couldn't find anything else."
Sawyer waved her hand as she sat down at the table with him, "It's fine," she said, "But I have to ask, whose shirt is this?" She asked as she grabbed a slight portion of it, "It's doesn't smell like you."
Scott gulped, "It was my dad's," he said sadly and looked down at his bowl, "Mom still keeps some of his stuff. I thought it was the only thing that she wouldn't realize was missing." There was a pregnant pause and Scott perked up again, "Hey, so I was thinking, maybe we can do some werewolf training today?" The way he asked it was the same way that Cassidy had asked her if they could play video games.
She opened her mouth to say no but stopped herself from actually saying the word. Training was something that they should probably do. Considering that Derek was no gone and they had no one else except each other.
"Sure," She answered him and Scott's smile widened, "Sure, yeah, we can do training today."
Scott laid down his spoon, "Good because Stiles is going to be here in about five minutes to pick us up."
"Woah, woah, woah, where exactly are we training?" Sawyer asked curiously as to what place Scott found that we hide their supernatural abilities.
Scott then gave her a sheepish look, "Well," He said elongating the word, "Remember that old playground that we used to go to, the one with the sandbox?"
"Scott," She asked calmly, "Please tell me we are not going to have werewolf training, in a children's park?"
"Where else would we go, the YMCA? I mean it's not exactly like we can practice in the backyard." Scott asked like a small child. Sawyer hated to admit it but Scott was right, they couldn't exactly go anywhere public.
Well, more public. The park that he was talking about was hardly ever used anymore due to it often over flooding. It was in more the secluded area of Beacon Hills. With woods covering 3/4ths of it the only part, they would have to be worried about was the baseball field area. That was the part that was facing the road, it would be the only place they people would be able to spy on them.
Taking a deep sigh, Sawyer ran a hand through her hair, "Alright, whatever, let's just hope that we didn't pick the one day that someone decided to come."
Scott smiled and Sawyer heard a buzzing on the table. She looked down to see that it was Scott's phone going off. He glanced at it and then was quickly hurrying around the kitchen, putting his bowl in the kitchen sink. "What's wrong?" Sawyer asked leaning forward.
"Stiles is here," He said and began rushing around trying to look for his shoes. Sawyer tried to understand why Scott was rushing so much. But as she looked at his face, she could see the excitement grow. He was excited about training, it seemed, this was something that he wanted to do.
As Scott pulled his jacket off the back of a chair, he looked over to her, "Well come on, it's not like we have all day." He said enthusiastically. Not giving her any time, Scott grabbed her wrist and yanked her out of the chair. He dragged her out the house and didn't let go of her until she was at Stiles' jeep with the door bursting open.
"Sawyer," Stiles said as she got into the back of his car. "is there any particular reason you're wearing Scott's old clothes and coming out of his house so early?" He asked sarcastically.
Sawyer snorted as she glared at him through the rearview mirror, "It's called avoiding my problems, Stilinski."
She hears him suck in a breath and turned around slightly to look at her. She saw that his expression had changed from humorous to serious. "Ah, well I am well versed in that area," He said jokingly but then quickly sobered up, "Has your mom talked to you yet?" He asked in a concerned voice.
Sawyer only shook her head, "She hasn't said one word to me."
"Well, that's good right?" Stiles asked then looked to Scott for support, "I mean, she's hasn't tried kicking you out of the house yet."
"Yeah," Sawyer agreed sarcastically, "Instead she just refuses to talk to me." There was a pregnant pause between the three of them. Sawyer could feel the unsaid words in the air, between them all. Her mother was the first person to figure out about the supernatural and so far, it wasn't going so well. Which brought up the question about what would happen with the rest of their parents? What would Mrs. McCall think or even Sheriff Stilinski? The thoughts of their parents kicking them out and no longer talking to them polluted the air around them.
"Maybe we'll get lucky and she'll think she dreamt the whole thing?" Stiles suggested but he didn't sound all that convinced.
"Stiles," Sawyer said softly, "When have I ever been that lucky?"
Stiles then let out a big sigh and turned back wound. He turned the car on and shook his head in disappointment, "Well, at least it was worth a try."
Their eyes then met through the rearview mirror and Sawyer gave him a grateful smile. He knew that she was struggling and he was just trying to get her through it. To her, that was enough, that was all she needed. It was one of the greatest gifts that she could have ever asked for.
Blake hadn't meant to avoid her sixteen-year-old werewolf daughter. Really, she hadn't, but she wasn't exactly trying to talk to her either. It was just the fact that she was still in the process of getting her memories back. Plus, Cassidy would practically wake up screaming every night and she would have to stay with him until he fell back asleep. So, talking to Sawyer had kind of went to the back burner for a little while.
She had a good opportunity this morning. Well, she did, until she heard the front door slamming shut and watched as Sawyer ran out of the house. She would have chased her but Blake felt like Sawyer needed time to be away. Like her, she needed time to understand what everything meant and what this information meant for both of them. Which led her to the problem of her memories.
Every night when she went to sleep, her memories would play in her head like dreams. But they weren't dreams, she knew they weren't, it was hard to explain but she knew that those were her memories. Not everything had come back to her though. From what she could piece together, however, was that she had been happy.
She had been working with Deaton under an apprenticeship to be an Emissary to the Hale Pack. The apprenticeship had started when she was sixteen and from what she could tell. It had ended when she was around twenty-one. She remembers that she didn't hate Talia Hale, she remembers all three of her children quite fondly, and she remembers those blue eyes. Those damn blue eyes that she dreamt of every night and every morning more pieces of his face would come together.
Every day she was remembering more and more of who Sawyer's father was and her life before.
She has the basics on him. For one, he was either related and or affiliated with the Hale's in some sort of way. Two, he had been older than her, not by much, but enough to raise some eyebrows from certain people. Finally, they had been madly in love with each other; it was something that had shocked her for a moment. Whenever she tried to think about him, Blake could feel the love that she held for this man, her heart would beat faster, her cheeks flushed. It was like she had a schoolgirl crush on some fictional person.
Feeling a sharp pain in her chest, Blake turned her thoughts away from the man she once knew she loved. She glanced down at her feet, to see Ozzy looking up at her with teary eyes, "What?" She asked as he sat down, "I already fed you."
The dog started panting and letting his tongue roll out of his mouth, some of his spit making it to the floor. Blake just gave the dog a look of disgust, "You're nasty, you know, that right?" She asked him like he was able to reply. The dog just continued staring at her.
Feeling like she needed to do something, Blake went upstairs and checked on Cassidy. She smiled as she saw that he was still sleeping peacefully. Being careful as she walked over to his nightstand, she quickly scribbled a note saying that she would be back later. And to call her or Sawyer if anything was to go wrong. She then grabbed a sweatshirt and made her way downstairs, grabbing her car keys from the side table, she made her way out the door.
Blake had a destination in mind. She didn't know if it was the safest place to go right now, but hell, she needed something more. She needed more answers about her life before and who she was, what kind of person she had been. And there was only place that she could think of that would give her the answers to her questions.
It just so happens that it also burned to the ground years ago and is practically a shell of itself.
The Hale house should have been harder to find, but it wasn't. She somehow still remembers the direction on how to get there. Driving her car there felt almost like second nature like she had done this so many times before.
As she pulled up to the house Blake stared at the burned down house. The more she stared at it the more she felt like she was being stabbed in the gut. It hurt to look at the once beautiful house and realize that it was nothing but rubble. From the memories that she did get back, she can remember how beautiful it was. How it was always filled with such life and love, kids always playing in the backyard or running around the house. Now it was just…. nothing, a ghost or an echo of a time that used to be better.
Getting out her car, Blake did a quick look around to see if anyone was there. Satisfied that she couldn't see anyone she began walking to the house. She's not going to lie here, she did it very slowly, she walked like she was a blonde in a horror movie. Which now that she thought about it, she kind of was a blonde in a horror movie. Except she wasn't dead, yet.
Shaking her head, she tried to free herself of any distracting thoughts and focus on what was in front of her. Which currently was the slightly ajar front door to the house; the door itself was bright red and it seemed to have been untouched by the fire. Something that left an even worse feeling in her stomach.
Closing her eyes briefly, Blake took a shaking hand and pushed on the door. Her heart raced as she heard the creaking of the door. She waited a couple of seconds before putting one of her feet inside of the house. She felt like she was crossing some sort of sacred barrier when she brought her other foot across the threshold of the front door.
The atmosphere inside the house was completely different from the outside. Blake felt like all the joy had been sucked out of her as she looked around at the burnt remains. The feeling of sadness overcame her and she felt tears threatening to leave her eyes. It was sad looking at all the memories that were gone. She might have only gotten her memories back but Blake understood how attached she was to this house. Or rather how attached she had been to this house and the people that lived inside of it.
Deciding that it was time to start investigating, Blake made her way forward. She didn't really know where to start or what she was looking for. So, she started with the first room that came into her view and she's pretty sure that it used to be the living room. She stood in the middle of the room and looked ahead of her at what seemed to be a fireplace.
It was covered in dust and heat from the fire had burned the brick and dark color. But as she looked at it, she couldn't help but remember what it truly looked like. A memory came back to her all at once, hitting her full force. Her head felt like it was a baseball and the memory was the batter, who had just hit a home run.
Within the span of a couple of seconds, she watched as the room around her changed. It was no longer burnt to rubble and covered with inches of dust. The fireplace had transformed back into what it had looked like before. Furniture that hadn't been there before no occupied the room, photos that hadn't been on the mantel now littered the space. And she was there.
It was like an out of body experience. She knew that it was herself but she also knew that it was her younger self. It was her younger self that was standing where she was standing, looking at the photos on the mantel fondly. She then jumped as she felt hands wrap around her middle pulling her backward. She felt her back hit a muscular chest and one of the hands that had wrapped around her middle laid a protective hand over her stomach.
Blake felt her heart constrict as she looked down and saw her stomach. It was swelled almost to the point where it was becoming noticeable to any stranger. She had never thought about her pregnancy with Sawyer. She knew that it had happened, obviously, but she never thought about the details of it. She had been young, that she remembers, but the rest was blurry.
Feeling tears coming out of her eyes, Blake grabbed onto the hand that was placed on her belly and squeezed it. She then felt the man behind her nuzzle her neck and kiss it slightly, which only caused more tears. "I know you're scared," She heard a deep voice say to her younger self and Blake choked back a sob. "But everything will be okay."
Everything had not been okay.
Letting her grip on the imaginary man go, Blake was then brought back to the present. Her lip wobbled slightly as she stared at the mantel place. But then she was filled with anger, she had been so close to finding out who the man was. So close to finding out whose Sawyer's father was and then he was taken away from her again. She felt like a dog and someone was dangling a bone in front of her. Well, at least she knew that the man had ties with the Hale family, so that at least narrowed some of it down.
She heard a crashing sound and Blake whirled around. Her green eyes widened the sight in front of her and exclaimed the name of a man she thought dead, "Derek?!"
Lydia rapped her knuckles against the Stilinski's door for the second time. She was growing impatient and she was silently hoping that someone would open the door. Stiles' signature blue jeep was not it the driveway so she guessed that he was out. But the Sheriff's car was still there and she wasn't leaving until she at least talked to him.
Clutching her bag closer to her body Lydia began to go over her plan. She was going to start light with the questioning. Then, when she felt like he was comfortable enough, she would start to pressure him more about the Hale case. She hoped that he would be too distracted by answering to realize where the line of questioning was going.
Hearing the signs of someone walking to the door, Lydia perked her head up and waited watched as the door opened. Sheriff Stilinski looked annoyed and ready to tell her off, probably thinking she was some salesman. But his expression changed as soon as he saw that it was her at his front door. His smile softened and his blue eyes not longer held any annoyance to them.
"Lydia," He said surprised, "What are you doing here?" He asked tilting his head to the side.
"Can I come in?" She asked carefully and she noted how his eye narrowed slightly, "It's just…I have questions." She finally said.
"I'm sure you do," he said and then sighed deeply, "Lydia, I understand that you might be frightened with Derek still out there but,"
Lydia stopped him mid-sentence, "What?" she asked thoroughly confused, "I'm not scared of Derek," She said and Sheriff furrowed his brow as she continued, "No, I wanted to show you something that I found with the information you gave me." She then gestured to her bag that held all of her evidence.
He then frowned and Lydia could see where Stiles got his facial expression from. They almost exactly mirrored that of his father. "What did you find?" He asked gesturing to the bag.
Lydia stood silent for a minute as she tried to think of a way to carefully word her next sentence. "The mountain lion," Lydia said and her green eyes met that of the Sheriff's, "It's not a mountain lion."
The Sheriff looked around outside quickly, before grabbing her arm and pulling her inside. He slammed the door shut and then locked it. Lydia felt her heart race as she looked at the Sheriff as he slowly turned towards her. They stood there in silence before he raised his brow at her and looked to expectantly, "Explain," was all he said.
Lydia then looked towards the table, which was filled with loose paper. "You're going to want to sit down because this might take a while." She told him. They both quickly sat down at the table and Lydia sat her bag down beside her. There was a long pause as the air around them quickly turned awkward.
"Do you want some water?" He asked her unsure of what else to do.
"No," She answered quickly, "I'm fine."
The Sheriff then ran a hand over his face and gave her an expectantly look, "Now," He said slowly, "What's this theory about the mountain lion not being a mountain lion?"
Lydia gulped, "After the incident at the video store, it got me thinking about these murders, to see if they had any connection," She then closed her eyes and was brought back to when she screamed. Then feeling of revenge coming back up. "Then, with the other night, it's like something clicked in my head." She then brought out all the papers that held the identities of all the people who were murdered on them.
He took a look at them and brought them closer to him. She continued as he read her findings, "We thought that these killings were random, but I don't think they are." She finally said, "I think somehow, all these people are connected. And if you can find out what connects them, then made you can prevent further attacks."
She watched as his eyes flickered between her and her research, "This is good but Lydia, mountain lions don't have motives." He then gently placed her findings on his table, "Plus, I've already released the statement that Derek Hale was behind all the murders."
Lydia felt as if she was slapped in the face, "On what grounds?" She asked accusingly, "Because Scott said so?"
The Sheriff shrugged, "He fits the profile and with all this evidence against him…" He then trailed off.
Lydia furrowed her brow, "But, Derek murdering all those people doesn't make any sense. Him murdering his sister doesn't make any sense." She then frowned, "And what about the wolf hairs found on her body?"
The Sheriff looked conflicted, like he wanted to tell her something but was refraining from doing so. He closed his eyes briefly and dragged both of his hands down his face, making him look even more tired. He paused for a moment before looking up at her, "I'll tell you what," He said sitting up properly, "If you can come up with an alternative theory, motive, and everything. Then I'll think about dropping Derek's charges."
"Really?" She asked a small smile gracing her face. Her heart was fluttering and she could feel excitement coursing through her veins. Her mind was racing with all the different theories and possibilities she could come up with.
"Yeah," He replied he then gave her a stern look, "But on two conditions. The first is that you have to keep this quiet, you can't tell anyone."
"Easy," She said quickly, "The second?"
"It has to be solid, Lydia beyond a reasonable doubt. I want you to treat this like it was an actual trial going to court."
Lydia thought about it for a moment. This would be challenging, she understood that, but she would also be able to bring justice. She knew that she would have to fine tune some of the facts considering that the supernatural was involved. Accepting this challenge, Lydia nodded her head, "Okay," She whispered softly, "Okay." She said firmly.
The Sheriff then put his hand out in front of him and the two shook hands. "It's a deal, then."
Both Scott and Sawyer fell to the ground again after the third time of trying to take each other down. The first time, it had been her fault with over estimating how hard she could hit Scott. The second time it had been his fault because he under estimated how fast she was. The third time, she was blaming on Stiles, who was standing there with a stop watch and an unimpressed look on his face.
Groaning, Sawyer forced herself back to her feet. She then put a handout and offered to help Scott to his feet. He gratefully took her hand and with little strength, she was able to pull Scott onto his feet. They both brushed off the dirt from their clothes and looked over at Stiles.
He was shaking his head at them, "I can't believe I'm saying this," He yelled to them, "But I think you're being too nice to each other."
Sawyer through her arms up in defeat, "What do you want me to do?" She yelled back, "Rip off his arm?"
"Well…yeah, basically!" Stiles yelled like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Scott turned toward Stiles looking offended, "Dude!" He yelled in confusion with his arms spread wide.
Stiles merely shrugged, "Sorry, Scott but it's the truth. You two need to stop being so nice to each other. If we're going after something that made Derek his little bitch, then you two need to be a little more aggressive towards each other."
Scott's eyes flashed yellow and he moved forward a little bit, "You want to give this a try?" He yelled out in frustration and dragged a hand through his shaggy hair. Sawyer wrapped her arms around Scott and pulled him back. She yanked him to the ground with a grunt, every since becoming a werewolf Scott's temper had gotten worse. Hers wasn't any better but Sawyer had always been temperamental, if anything, she now had an excuse as to why.
Scott struggled in her grasps but she pinned her on his back with her legs on either side of his hips. He wiggled and struggled but there was no getting out of her grasp. Sawyer flashed her eyes and growled at him, "You need to learn control," She said harshly.
Scott, still struggling, glared up at her, "You sound like Derek," he panted out.
Sawyer rolled her eyes and let him go. She rolled off of him and pushed her loose blonde hair out of her face. "It's the truth, Scott. If we're going to keep our normal lives then you need to learn how to control this."
Scott swatted the ground with his hand, causing small pieces of grass to come flying at her. She managed to avoid the grass but glared at Scott in response. "I'm trying!" He yelled out and then rested his elbows on the top of his knees. "It's just…" He trailed off and hid his face in his hands, "Everything is happening all at once."
She didn't say anything because she understood. Everything was changing in the span of a couple of weeks. Their whole lives had changed and now their eyes were open to a whole new world that had always been there. After she had just figured out about being a werewolf, Sawyer felt like she had been blind for not seeing the signs before. How she hadn't been able to tell that there was something more going on with this town. She had been friends with Cora Hale for Christ sakes! She should have known something.
"World's not gonna stop moving, Scott," She said and he looked to her with those big brown eyes, "It's about time that we keep pace with it."
"Yeah, well, it's going a little faster than expected." He grumbled as he started to pick at a specific piece of grass.
Sawyer smirked knowingly. He wasn't wrong and she had no counter point. This was all going so fast for them that they had no idea what they were doing. Derek was probably dead, The Alpha wanted their friend's dead, and she's pretty sure that Lydia can see the dead.
There was a whistle and both teenagers looked up to see Stiles waving his arms above his head. "Hey!" He screamed at them, "Are you two done having a moment because we still have some training to do!"
Sawyer rolled her eyes at Stiles and got to her feet. She stretched out her arms and looked down at Scott who was now getting to his feet as well. Sawyer was done with falling to the ground and bringing Scott with her. There was to be more training then just hitting each other like there was no tomorrow.
"He is right you know," Sawyer said in annoyance, "The full moon is coming up and with Derek not around, we're on our own."
"Thanks for the reminder, Sawyer," Scott grumbled as he brushed the grass stains off of his shorts.
Both made their way over to a disgruntled looking Stiles. He was wearing his signature red hoodie and whistle was around his neck. He had yet to actually use the whistle, but as soon as he would Sawyer is pretty sure she would snap the thing in half.
"What are you two doing? I thought we came here to train?" Stiles asked the two of them as they approached him.
Sawyer bit her lip and looked out towards the empty woods. An idea was forming in her head and she got a feeling that it was something that could lighten the mood. Not only would it lighten the mood but both of them would also get in some training as well.
She stared at the red hoodie that Stiles was wearing. All she would need to do is convince Stiles to go and hide the hoodie somewhere. Getting Stiles to part with the hoodie seemed like an impossible task all on its own. She might have to bribe him with something, or wrestle it off of home, she was getting that jacket either way.
"Hey Stiles," Sawyer started in a sweet voice, "Can you do me a favor?"
Stiles narrowed his hazel eyes at her while his lips formed and firm line, "What's with that voice, I don't like that voice. And why are you staring at my hoodie like you wanna kiss it or eat it?"
"I just had a thought," Sawyer said innocent but her eyes betrayed her, "How about you go hide your hoodie somewhere far away from here. Then, when you're done, Scott and I will try and go look for it."
Stiles was silent for a moment before lifting a disbelieving eyebrow, "You want to hunt my hoodie?" Sawyer nodded her head and gave a pleading look to Scott. Scott merely shrugged and thought that it was also a good idea. Stiles grumbled as he angrily took off the red hoodie, "If any harm comes to this hoodie then I am expecting to be reimbursed."
"No harm will come to the red hoodie that you are weirdly attached too," Sawyer said as she elbowed Scott to make sure he quickly agreed as well.
Grumbling, Stiles stomped his way over to the Jeep muttering curses all the way.
"Holy shit you're alive!" Was probably not the best thing to first exclaim when seeing Derek. The man was laying on the ground in obvious pain while she just stood there and watched him. It wasn't like she didn't want to do anything to save Derek, she was just in so much shock that she had no idea as to what to do.
"Thanks," Derek grunted out sarcastically as he managed to prop himself up against the wall. "No, I'm fine, it's not like I have a massive hole in my chest or anything." He remarked bitterly as he rested against the darkened wall.
The comment had managed to pull her out from her shock and she rushed over to him. Kneeling on her knees carefully touched the torn part of his shirt. He winced a little bit and she starts apologizing profusely. The wound looked bad but it also looked like it was healing itself, "I'm sorry," She finally said, "But I don't think a can do anything to help."
"It's fine," He panted out and let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes, "So, I'm guessing that Sawyer told you?"
Blake thought for a moment, "Well, it was a combination of things," Blakes said as she thought back to the Vet office when she saw him and Scott interrogating Deaton. There was a pang of pain in her side and remembered the pain of Sawyer knocking her down repeatedly. "I guess you could say that it was really your fault."
He looked confused for a moment before groaning and hitting his head back against the wall. "You were the one in the office that night."
"Yeah," Blake said and frowned, "He's not the Alpha, by the way."
Derek rolled his eyes and the action reminded her of Sawyer, "I know that now," He said annoyed, "But he does know something…" He trailed off for a moment before looking at her, "and so do you."
Blake cringed at the accusation and she sighed deeply trying to think of a way to explain this to Derek. Was there a proper way to explain how her connections to the Hales? She doesn't really think so because Blake herself didn't even know her connection to the Hales. She just knew that she had one and that it was important.
She glanced up at looked around the house and she could once again see it as it used to be. It was not a memory or anything like that. She just remembered what it looked like; the color of the walls, the rugs that Talia loved so much.
"I think I know a lot too," She said calmly into the silent air not even meeting Derek's eyes, "But I just can't remember how much."
Derek was silent for a moment before turning towards her more, "Why did you hate my mom?" He asked with the voice of a young child.
Blake turned towards him shocked. She doesn't ever remember telling him anything like that. She remembered Cora and Sawyer's friendship and figured that she must have told him something about it. Blake mulled it over in her head, she didn't want to trash talk Derek's dead mother, but Talia also did some pretty terrible things.
"You're mom…" She started and struggled with the words, "She always did what she thought was right, even if it wasn't…right."
Derek furrowed his brow, "She didn't something bad, didn't she?" He asked and Blake slowly nodded her head. He then sighed deeply and squeezed his eyes shut, scrunching his face up as he did so. Blake would recognize that look anywhere. It was the "I'm trying really hard not to cry right now" look and it was something that Sawyer did often.
Feeling bad, Blake hesitantly placed a hand on Derek's shoulder as she watched him fight his tears. "One bad thing doesn't make her a bad person, Derek," She told him, "Your mom just made a mistake, that's all."
He bit the inner corner of his cheek, "My mom didn't make mistakes," He mumbled out with voice wavering only slightly.
Blake smirked, "We all make mistakes," She clarified, "It's part of the natural process of learning." She then took her hand off his shoulder and got up from the ground. Wincing slightly as she did, Blake looked around the house and then down at Derek, realizing that he was staying there.
"Come home with me," She said simply and mentally cringed at the sound of that.
Derek's eyes snapped open and he looked at her widely like she was dressed as a clown. "What?" he asked.
Blake shook her head, "Not like that you weirdo, just come and stay at my house until that gaping hole in your chest closes up."
Derek seemed to ponder this idea. She could tell that he was thinking about it, weighing his options and what might happen if he did do this. Blake was becoming impatient but she didn't want to spoke to him or anything. The honest truth was that she just didn't want to stay in this house any longer and she still needed more answers from Derek. Was she a bad person by offering a functioning house in return for answers? Ah, she'll figure it out another day, her morality wasn't really important right now.
Blake reached out her hand and Derek, after a moment of hesitation, took it. She tried her best to help him up but her ribs screamed in protest. She grimaced and pain and Derek noticed it, he looked at her with a questioning look. "Are you okay?" He asked with more curiosity than concern.
Blake waved it off as she did her best to support Derek, "Yeah, I'm fine, I just have a couple of bruised ribs from the other night,"
"The Alpha?"
She shook her head as the started making their way out of the house, "No, it's was Sawyer, she threw me into a bathroom stall. I landed on a toilet and broke it, which is why my ribs are bruised."
He made a noise of impressment and carefully the two made their way down the steps. She brought him to the back of her car and leaned him against it as she opened the door. Once the car door was open, without hesitation, Derek dropped onto the backseats and laid down on his stomach. Blake opened her mouth to suggest that he might want to move but she went against it. Derek seemed pretty comfortable where he was and she didn't feel like putting in that effort to move him. Slamming the door shut she made her way over to the driver side and entered her car.
She turned the keys and the car roared to life, "Hey Derek, do me a favor and don't bleed out onto my seats," He gave a muffled response and Blake looked through the rearview mirror to see that he gave her a thumbs up. Blake took that as an okay sign and she pulled out of the driveway, leaving the Hale house behind.
The ride back home wasn't bad. It was filled with a comfortable silence and slight groaning on Derek's part every time she hit a pothole. However, the real problem came about whenever she reached her home and realized that Derek was wanted for murder. She now had figure out someway to get Derek into her house with anyone seeing him.
Panicking she rummaged through her glove department for anything that she could use. The glove department was only able to give her a pair of bright red cat-eyed sunglasses, which she hopes will work. She then looked at Derek's attired and frowned, he looked too much like Derek Hale. She looked down at herself and at what she was wearing.
She had chosen to wear a light grey shirt with a pick sweatshirt over it with a scarf wrapped around her neck. She went with her usually mom jeans and for pants and black converse that were being held together by duct tape. Hastily, Blake unwrapped the scarf from around her neck and shimmed off her cardigan.
Derek, who was now sitting up, was looking at her like she was a new species of animal. "Take off your jacket and put this on," She told him as she threw the pink cardigan back at him. He didn't comply right way and whirled around glaring at him, "NOW!" He flinched at her tone of voice and quickly rid himself of his black leather jacket.
She would have to wash that later.
Blake watched as Derek struggled to get his arms through the arm sleeves of the sweatshirt. It seemed that the only way it could stay on was if he hunched over. The bottom of the sweatshirt only came to about his stomach making it look like a crop top. She grimaced, Derek still looked too Derek, "You're still too recognizable," She then passed him the glasses and he glared at her before rolling his eyes and putting them on.
Alright, that was slightly better, but he still looked too much like someone named Derek Hale. Taking the scarf, Blake leaned back and tied it carefully around his head, making it into a head scarf that an old woman would wear. It wasn't the best but it would have to work. "I look ridiculous," He said flatly.
Blake scoffed as she rolled up his leather jacket and opened up her car door, "That's kind of the point. The last thing that I need is someone calling the cops on me."
Derek opened up the door on his side and struggled to get out, "The door is literally twenty feet away," He said gesturing to her door. Blake walked over to him and once again wrapped an arm around him, supporting him and his weight.
"Yeah, well, I don't won't to risk those twenty-feet, now shut up and move," She grumbled at him harshly as they took their first steps towards the house. Blake thought they hit smooth sailing when they were only five steps away at the door. Unfortunately, it was also the same time that her other neighbor came out to cheek on her flowers.
"Blake!" The elderly voice of Mrs. Palmer came ringing out. Blake visibly cringed at the sound of the elderly woman, "Blake," She called out again, "There you are!"
Blake rolled her eyes and tried her best to turn towards Mrs. Palmer without revealing too much of Derek's face. "Yeah, Mrs. Palmer?" She asked in a false chipper voice.
"I just wanted to ask if you could remember to lock your gate at night and make sure that your dog doesn't come out at night," She yelled nicely, "It's driving poor Mr. Pete and Toodles up a wall." The elderly woman finished with a slight chuckle as she thought about her pet birds.
Blake furrowed her brow and her grip on Derek loosened, which caused him to fall slightly and reach for the wall. Blake didn't care all that much though and she turned to look at the elderly woman fully now, her whole-body stiff.
"I don't let Ozzy out at night," Blake said calmly but a feeling of dread was overcoming her.
The elderly woman looked puzzled, "Well that can't be, because almost every night for the past two weeks Mr. Pete and Toodles have been chirping up a storm. So, two nights ago I went to see what it was about. I found that your backyard gate had been unlocked and there were paw prints in the dirt."
Derek made a grunting noise and Blake turned around to meet his gaze. Even though she could see his green-grey eyes she knew that they were thinking the exact same thing. Turning back to Mrs. Palmer, she plastered on the best fake smile she could conjure. "My mistake, I'll make sure it won't happen again."
"Oh, thank you, dear," The old woman said gratefully, "And who is that you have with you?"
Eyes widening in panic Blake said the first thing that came to her mind, "Uhhh…this is Anya, she's my cousin's husband's grandmother." Derek gave a little wave with a small smile to try and look more friends.
Before even giving her the chance to adjust her glasses, Blake through open her door and shoved Derek in it. "Oh, well, Anya very tired from her flight, jet leg and all…okay, bye, nice talking to you." Blake then rushed through the threshold of the door and slammed it shut. She closed her eyes and sighed in relief.
She then heard the smashing of glass on the ground and opened her green eyes. Cassidy was standing there, with a glass and orange juice surrounding his feet, mouth wide open. His brown eyes stared at Derek, who was resting against the arm of the couch and then to her. His face looked like it was in a struggle to figure out what was going on. Finally, after a couple of more seconds went by Cassidy opened his mouth and spoke.
"Holy shit, you're alive?!"
Oh yeah, he's totally her son.
Sawyer sprinted though the woods, trying to catch the scent of Stiles' jacket again. She had lost about a mile back and was trying to latch onto it again. She had to keep checking her phone to make sure that Scott had no found it yet. She was worried that since the two were so close, Scott would know all the places that Stiles could hide his hoodie. But, as the half an hour turned into forty-five minutes, she was starting to rethink that idea.
She stopped running and closed her eyes, trying to focus her senses like Derek had taught her on the bus. It was overwhelming at first, everything was assaulting her senses at first and she could barely latch onto the distinct smell of Stiles. Then she forced herself to only focus on that smell and nothing else, to ignore everything else in the woods. Taking a deep breath in, and the faint smell of Stiles on her mind, she found out the direction she needed to go. "Got you," She said to herself.
She then started turned west and began running for the edge of the woods. The sent was taking her more into town. Which is a good strategy on Stiles part, there were more scents the closer you got into town, more distractions. As she came closer to the edge of the woods Sawyer could make out a clearing and the faint sound of a car rushing by.
The sound caused her legs to move faster and she burst through the tree line like a bat out of hell. Stiles' scent had brought her to one of the main roads leading into Beacon Hills. She took in another deep breath and found that Stiles had decided to go south. Sawyer tried to think of possible places that he could have gone. There was the mall, although she doubted that he would have gone there, there was the bowling alley. Sawyer also doubts that's where he would have gone as well, Stiles seemed like the person to go somewhere specifically him.
An idea popped into her head and she groaned as she realized who was one person that lived on the South side of Beacon Hills. Reaching into her pocket, Sawyer pulled out her phone and quickly dialed the numbed of her friend. It took only three rings before the person on the other end picked up, "Hello?" Lydia's voice rang on the other end on the phone.
Sawyer let out a deep sigh, "Quick question, is there a blue jeep parked anywhere near you right now?"
There was a rustling on the other end of the phone as she assumed Lydia went to check. After thirty seconds Lydia gave her answer, "Aww, yeah, actually, there is," She said confused, "Wait isn't that Stiles' car?"
Sawyer moaned and smacked her forehead, "Yeah it is," She confirmed with slight agitation in her voice, why did he have to pick her place? Sawyer scratched her nose and told herself to calm down, the wolf inside her was wanting to come out.
"What's he doing here and why is there a red hoodie on his antenna?" Lydia asked and before Sawyer could answer followed up with, "Never mind, I don't care, I'm going to go talk to him."
Sawyer's ears perked up, "What, Lydia, you can't," She insisted as she heard the tell-tale signs of Lydia putting on a jacket. She started walking faster in the direction of Lydia's house, knowing that she was only a short ten minute run away from there.
Lydia scoffed from the other end, "Don't worry, I won't tell him to leave or anything like that, I'm just interested in something."
"Interested in what?" She puffed out as she made her tired legs walk faster.
"Stuff," Lydia said and Sawyer could imagine her shrug, "And things," There was a pause, "I'm just curious…" She trailed off.
Sawyer was about to reply when she heard the other end go dead. She swore to herself and pocketed her phone. With both hands-free, Sawyer used all her remaining energy and pushed her legs forward, commanding them in the direction on Lydia's house. She could feel the blood pumping in her body, and the wind in her hair, she felt like she was moving at an inhuman speed. And maybe she was, or maybe it was just the last kick of adrenaline washing over her.
As she rounded a corner Sawyer almost ran into something. No, not something, someone, specifically the one person that she was trying to beat. Both her and Scott stood there glancing at each other in surprise. Then, like a bell went off, both surged forward in the direction of Lydia's house.
They were side by side and each of them was trying to make the other slower. Sawyer put her arm out and tried to push him back. Scott, on the other hand, was pushing her slightly so that she hopefully trip on herself. She would have called it dirty but they never actually agreed to any rules.
Once the jeep became visible both of them turned into Usain Bolt. The red hoodie was situated on top of the radio antenna. As they got closer to it, they both got more physical with each other. Sawyer shoved Scott to the side and she cackled in glee as he fell to the ground.
She approached the red hoodie Sawyer jumped and grabbed onto in victory. However, the victory was short lived as she was tossed to the ground by the sudden weight of Scott jumping onto her back. The hoodie was flung from her grasp and landed a few feet from them. They both army crawled to where it was, both trying to slow each other down.
Finally, with a final reach, Sawyer had been able to grab onto it again. She grasped it tightly and shot to her feet. "I win," She panted out as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. Scott looked mad which quickly turned to defeat. He got to his feet sluggishly and let his shoulders sag, a sad look on his face.
"Umm," A voice rang out and the two of them turned to see Lydia standing by Stiles with a confused expression, "Do I want to know?" She asked while shrugging her shoulders.
Sawyer's lips formed a thin line trying to come up with an answer. Fortunately, it was Scott who answered for them, "No," He said with his voice a little breathy, "Not really."
"Yeah, that's probably for the best," Stiles said looking at the two. Sawyer didn't really want to imagine what she looked like right now. Because all versions she could come up with were not good, each was as bad as the last one. She just hoped that she did not look as bad as Scott did because that boy was covered in sweat, blood, and dirt.
Realizing she still had the hoodie, Sawyer leaned forward awkwardly and handed it back, "Here you go," She said. Stiles took the hoodie back and gracefully put it back on himself, causing everyone to plunge into silence again.
Lydia clapped her hands together, making the three of them jump, "Well, this is fun and not totally awkward at all," She said cheerfully, "I'm gonna go back inside now, Sawyer do you want to come with?" She asked while giving her a look that told her she didn't really have a choice.
"Sure," She said sarcastically, she then walked over to Lydia's side and looked at both Scott and Stiles, "Scott, Stiles, it was nice doing what we did today, but I'm afraid by schedule just became busy."
"Okay," "Bye," The both of them side at the same time in equally confused voices.
Lydia lopped her arm through hers and dragged her into the house, talking to her about what she was going to wear tomorrow for school.
Upon arriving home, Sawyer had fully planned on taking a shower and avoiding her mother a little more. However, that plan was thrust out of the window and combusted and then dumped into the ocean when she opened the door.
Sitting there in her living room was Derek, her mom, and Cassidy all looking like they were a part of the show Intervention. Derek was sitting on the far end of the couch in a pink crop top sweater and seemed to have an annoyed look on his face. Cassidy was on the ground clutching Ozzy for dear life, still clad in the pajamas that he had been wearing for the past two days. Her mother was sitting on the recliner looking nervous and slightly happy at the same time.
Overall, Sawyer could only think of one thing to say, "Shit," She said looking at Derek dread filling her voice, "You're alive."