Black Sun
When a good man is hurt, all who would be called good must suffer with him.
- Euripides
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Beyond A Reasonable Doubt
I couldn't hear a thing over the deafening roar of thunder.
The school bus carried us at a snail's pace down the deserted highway, clunking and bumping over cracks in the asphalt. The sky was muggy and shapeless as grey marble, casting dark palls of shadows at the road ahead that even Coach Finstock had trouble seeing through. He blew his portable whistle obnoxiously loud and yipped whenever someone as much as moved adjusted their feet while sitting in those uncomfortable leather seats. By the time we hit the freeway, he must have blew that damn thing over thirty times. A slow, aching migraine nipped at my forehead as I stared blankly out the window, temple resting against the smooth glass. The quiet hum of the bus engine lulled me to an almost dream-like state, dulling the lump of rage and hollow dejection swimming in my veins. Every time I caught a glimpse of one of the Alpha twins, Ethan, snuggling up to Danny in the back rows, my limbs twitched with the urge to jump him and finish what they started in the abandoned mall center.
I tried not to think about it. I tried so hard, but it was like pushing through a long day without a chemical fix when your body is still dangerously addicted. His hazy green, lifeless eyes flashed into every reflective surface, the bus windows, the bright screens of the other students phones, and probably the worst of all...each time my eyes shut to rest. It felt like a haunting. A terrible haunting that started off as a spiritual protection, but fed off greed and wrath, then turned into a curse. Beating the Alpha twins and anybody involved with them seemed like a suitable cure for this madness, but I knew it wasn't what Derek would have wanted. He wouldn't have wanted any of us to risk our lives like that, to throw caution to the wind so blindly. He'd want me to think rationally and not go off what I felt inside, no matter how much it hurt to even be living right then. It didn't seem right. Not at all. I was there, alive and well. And he wasn't.
They took him from me.
Thinking about it made my fingernails dig furiously into the plastic covering of the seat. It wasn't fair. It wasn't supposed to turn out this way. Everything went wrong and one person involved in it all was sitting two levels behind me on a bus we were being forced to commune on for the next five hours. A single second already felt like too long. And I wasn't the only one that was getting aggravated by it all. Boyd was peering over at Ethan lividly every now and then, chest heaving and hands clenching the front cushion like he was trying his best to contain his rage. His eyes even flickered gold once. I almost wished he would have snapped and clobbered the twin so I could shamelessly join in, but my mind kept bouncing back to Derek; his voice telling me stay out of it, to keep away from the danger and to watch over the others. Part of me was conflicted. I didn't how much longer I could take it. Sometimes a mild ache would pound in my chest, like a struggling heartbeat, but only at seldom times when everything felt too surreal for me to handle. It felt like a sign... a sign from what or who, I didn't know. The very back of my mind whispered Derek, but that couldn't be possible. He was gone. I watched him die.
Derek was dead.
And I felt so numb.
[O]
ONE DAY AGO
A week had passed with no further contact from Deucalion or any other members of his Alpha pack. Except the twins. After Aiden was allowed back on school grounds for the little bike incident, he sent no less than murderous glances our way each time we we passed him in the halls. Given how harshly the Principal laid into him, it was all too satisfying. And totally worth it. My grades were gradually starting to steer forward instead of head first into the dirt. It'd be a while before I'd reach passing scores, maybe a tutor requirement for algebra, but it was better than lagging behind a whole grade. Ms. Blake was also giving some tips on how to improve and structure my essays in all their rushed, sloppy conditions. She was actually really helpful. I could have definitely saw her as becoming one of my favorite teachers. Shocking. I'd never thought I'd see the day I'd appreciate a teacher like that.
After school one afternoon, I had planned to retire home and get in some much needed study time, but Derek called and asked me to drop by his loft. And given the severity of his tone, it was nothing to take lightly. With a snack sized bag of pretzels in my bag, I detoured from my on-foot pilgrimage home and made a quick shortcut to the apartment complexes. When I came in through the double doors, the entire Hale pack, including Boyd were surrounding the long wooden table. A map of the city was laid out before them. It looked like they were in the middle of something extremely devious. I set my messenger back down on the empty sofa and approached the awaiting table. Derek's sister, Cora, turned toward me at the sound of my footsteps, eyes serious and pensive. She gave me a once over with all that I could describe as a dismissive expression.
"Who's she?" She looked at Derek and inclined her head in my direction.
"The love of your brother's life," Peter remarked in a falsely sensitive voice, gazing down at the map with little to no interest. Derek shot him a very tasteful side eye glare.
Cora made a scoffing noise. "Her?" She didn't sound particularly impressed. Her eyes flicked to mine. "You don't look like much to me."
I didn't say anything and just looked at her as if she were about to sock me in the jaw. What was there to say to someone that mysteriously went missing for almost ten years? Given the way her brother was and how cynical Peter could be, this reveal in personality wasn't very shocking. Hale blood definitely ran strong through her. And not just through charm. She had the same almond shaped eyes, dark hair and fair skin just like Derek. Except her locks had subtle tinges of very light brown, almost blonde.
"Cora," Derek growled softly under his breath, glowering slightly at his little sister. His tone was short, clipped, and full of warning. She just sighed and crossed her arms, turning back to face the map. Well, that was a warm welcoming. We were definitely gonna grow to be life long friends.
"Why is there a map of Allison's place?" I asked, looking down at the sketched lines. The building was tall, reaching over a hundred stories, and occupied by citizens mostly of the common wealth. I've only visited her once there. It was a nice little complex; simple and nothing too fancy, but it was obvious someone needed a hearty trust fund to reside there.
"They live there," Derek replied.
"The Alpha pack?" I said. He nodded. "Why would they stay out in the open like that?"
"To watch us," Derek responded. "Or to taunt us."
I hated that they chose to build their little nest right where Allison was, in plain sight where they could harm her or her father whenever they saw fit. Whether to spite us or just to close a loose end. Mr. Argent was a strong guy, but if he had trouble taking down his aging father, how would he fare against four super werewolves? "Can't we get them out of there somehow?"
"They haven't done anything dangerous or illegal," Derek said. "So we can't get them evicted."
I frowned and studied the blueprints as Peter and Derek spoke on about possible entryways without storming in guns blazing, so to speak. We weren't exactly pegged for war zone etiquette in the past, but with a band of overpowered werewolves looking to make scarves out of our skin, we couldn't exactly giving us all away at once. The odds didn't look aligned in our favor. But when did they ever? Whatever happened, it had to end better than the disaster the kanima's reign ensued. It took months to recover from those losses. And one of those losses, I was still mourning, grieving over. Hurt was still fresh. Gazing around me, taking everything and everyone in, I didn't want it to change again. I didn't know if I could handle another abrupt adaptation. It almost ruined me the first time.
A second time around... I would just break.
The door screeched open then. "I know where they are," Scott's voice rang out. He froze when he saw us at the table.
"Same building as the Argents," Derek told him. "We know."
"Cora and I followed the twins," Boyd added.
Scott came closer with a wary expression. "Then they want you to know."
"Or more likely, they don't care," Peter commented lightly.
Scott walked up to the table, studying the papers scattered all over the surface and I shuffled over to the left to make room, accidentally bumping arms with Cora in the process. She gave me a tiny glare. "What is this?" Scott youngest beta asked, also sensing the foursome in underlying cahoots.
"Isn't it obvious?" Peter alluded in his usual unflappable manner. At least he owned up to his evilness. "The schemers are scheming, coming up with a coup de main. Better known as preemptive strike."
Scott peered over at the only Alpha. "You're going after them?"
"Tomorrow," Derek confirmed. "You're gonna help us. They're one floor above them in the pent house. Right above Allison."
Scott paused, a somber realization slowly sinking in. "So kill them first. "He didn't look too happy with the idea. "That's the plan."
"They won't even see it coming," Boyd stated.
"Why is the default plan always murder?" Scott threw back. "Just once, can can someone try to come up with something that doesn't involve killing everyone?" His appreciation for amiability always made me feel better, comforted even. He always pushed for a amicable approach and even though it wasn't always considered, it was nice to know that there was someone there who liked to stop and think about what they were doing before diving in. I admired that about him. Sometimes I wished I had it too.
"You never get tired of being so blandly moral, do you?" Peter insinuated at the younger boy.
"Well, someone has to be," I said dryly, shooting the elder lycan a small glower.
Peter rolled his eyes and glanced at his nephew. "Not that I disagree with him."
"I do," Cora piped in, then swept her eyes up and down Scott's form distastefully. "Why do we need this kid?" She said it as though he were ten years her junior.
"This kid helped save your life," Derek countered. "And you know we can't just sit back and wait for them to make the first move."
"You can't beat a pack of Alphas."
"That's why we're going after Deucalion," Cora clarified curtly. "Just him."
"Cut off the head of the snake and the body dies."
"Only this isn't a snake," Peter pointed out. "It's a Hydra. And like Scott says, they're all Alphas."
"Deucalion's still the leader," Derek said.
"Let's hope so," his Uncle responded. "Because you know what happened when Hercules cut off one of the heads of the Hydra?"
Scott appeared deep in thought. "Two more grew back in its place."
Peter cocked his head at him slightly with a satisfied smirk. "Somebody's been doing their summer reading."
A canopy of apprehension fell over the loft. We were all so eager to finish this, to bring an end to a rising threat before it actually started, it worried me that we might have been acting to rashly, thinking on impulse and the instinct to fight back, rather than thinking on what really was best. I trusted Derek with my life, although I couldn't help but ponder Scott's words. Was fighting really the answer? Every time? It never brought us everywhere we wanted to be. Talking about your feelings to the enemy like couples therapy wasn't exactly a fail safe plan either. Maybe this was what the Alpha pack wanted. To confuse us and make do something that we'd regret, that would end in one of us dead.
Or all of us.
[O]
CURRENTLY
The sharp hiss of Coach Finstock's whistle yanked me from my trance as the chaperon berated a poor sickly boy that looked one speed bump away from regurgitating his breakfast all over his shoes. I guess it didn't help that the questionably licensed Economics teacher was yelling in face about it. Scott and Stiles kept to themselves at the very back of the bus, talking to one another very intensely. Scott in particular was sweating profusely and ashen. He was still injured from the fight back at the mall, which worried me. He was usually quick to heal. What was taking so long? When Coach Finstock lumbered back up to the front of the bus, I discreetly peered over my shoulder to check the suspicious status of the only present Alpha. He had his head turned slightly toward the aisle, as if he were in the middle of eavesdropping on something. Or someone. The bus jerked to a stop then, the brake pedal squeaking as the long motor vehicle lurched forward, almost sending every student crashing to the floor.
Horns blared from every direction as our fearless chaperon scrabbled to get the bus moving again. It was real nice of the school board to actually assigned someone that knew what they were doing. I glanced behind at the rear window to see the waiting line of cars trailing the bumper and gasped when I spotted the ethereal glow of Boyd's golden irises. The corners of his mouth were curled up into a vengeful snarl, claws extending slowly into the leather seat covering. He was about to blow. The stress and trauma of what transpired in that broken down mall was written all over his face. His gaze briefly locked with mine across the distance and I vigorously shook my head at him, signaling to veto whatever he was planning because it would send everything we worked for into utter chaos. Despite how much it would pleased me join in on a greatly anticipated brawl with the lone Alpha twin, it just couldn't happen because Derek wouldn't want us to put ourselves in jeopardy like that.
In the back row, Scott rose carefully and limped his way over to Boyd, who practically transformed into Wolverine at that point. Scott knelt down to Boyd's level and grasped his clawed hand so he couldn't try anything rash. Boyd attempted to leap out of the seat, but both Scott and Isaac held him down. A big guy like Boyd must have been difficult to restrain. They spoke quietly for a moment longer before Scott haggled all the way back up to his section. He still looked unwell. How long would it take for his wound to heal completely? The bus kept at a standstill for about twenty minutes. Most students resorted to their iPods or tinkered away on their cell phones until the traffic jam cleared. But judging from how long the line went ahead of us, that didn't seem like it'd happen anytime soon.
After while, the poor ill boy in the corner began to groan and clutch his middle, face turning a pale forest green. Coach Finstock harped on him for it, which probably only worsened his condition.
"Now the rest of you," he then addressed us all. "Don't think we're gonna miss this meet because of a slight traffic jam, a minor tornado warning, Jared. We're gonna make this thing. Nothing is gonna stop us! Stilinski, put your hand down."
Stiles begrudgingly did as he was told. "You know, there's like a food exit about a half a mile up. I don't know, if we stop and then maybe traffic-"
"We're not gonna stop."
"Okay, but if we stop-"
Coach Finstock blew on that damn whistle again. "Stilinski! Shut it! Seriously, it's a little bus! Stop asking me questions!"
I slapped a hand to my forehead and sighed in complete exasperation. Those two were like oil and water. Very different and very clashing. How were were supposed to travel the remaining distance to the Meet without a nuclear meltdown, I had no idea. We'd never get there without some kind of hatchet murder. After a couple minutes, my pocket buzzed, cell phone switched to vibration in case anyone needed to contact me. I glanced around me warily, meeting the unsuspecting sides of people's face as I fished the mobile device out. Of course, it was none other than a text from the scheming boy.
'Scott's hurt,' Stiles' message read.
I frowned and wrote back a reply. 'I noticed. What can we do?'
'We need to get him off the bus. Any ideas?' His response popped up seconds later.
'I don't know. You're the smart one' I typed back.
'Well, you're closer to the door!'
'How is that important?'
'I don't know!'
I rolled my eyes. Typical Stiles logic. 'I got nothing. Sorry' How could I come up with an elaborate plan when I could barely make sense of what was storming in my own head. My mind was like an explosive on the verge of detonation. After twenty minutes of perpetual delay, Stiles decided to take the initiative and confront our grumbling chaperon himself.
"Coach, it's five minutes for a bathroom break, okay? We've been on this thing for, like, three hours-" The obnoxious blow of the whistle cut him off. "It's sixty miles to the next rest stop-" And again. "Being cooped up for hours is not good-" Then another. "You know, our bladders aren't exactly-" And once more. "Coach-" Squeak. "This is- " Squeak. "Can you- " SQUEAK. "Please let me talk!"
Coach Finstock blew into the whistle so hard that time, I had to cover my ears to keep them from bursting. "Get back to your seat, Stilinski!"
"OKAY!" Stiles exclaimed, appearing so enraged he probably wanted to rip that whistle from the Coach's neck and shove it up a place it wouldn't be very comfortable.
I sighed and sank back into my seat, eyes shutting tightly at the ceased screaming match. Coming here was a mistake. Agreeing to running that track meet was a mistake. I should have stayed in my room and slept until graduation day. Or until where something proved that was just a terrible nightmare I was being forced to live. Sleep sounded better than anything else at that point. I crossed my arms languidly and tried not to focus on the irritating tone of Coach Finstock's voice as he hassled the bus driver or the fact that everything smelled like a rotting meat locker.
The cursed little horn around Coach Finstock's neck was like his best friend. With each hour that passed, he blew on the metal tube like it was his last day on earth, doubling the percentage of use he used the last time. And all for the most insignificant, irritating reasons. It was typical Coach behavior, but your brain was running on overkill, not much was deemed tolerable anymore. I didn't know how much longer I could withstand it. Only a small portion of time passed in peace with the rest peppered in his baritone voice, spewing Greenberg harassment and cheesy movie line recitations. When the next half hour rolled by, I counted twelve whistle blows. By that time, both palms were pressed over my eyes in annoyance.
The whistle howled again and I lost it.
"Coach!" My vocal outburst caught his attention. "You know, some of us have a headache and are trying to get a little sleep, like Jared over there. But we can't do that if you keep blowing that stupid whistle and screaming like a deranged psycho. So, a little less whistling and a little more silence would be appreciated!"
A beat passed in awkward, stiffening silence. The look on the Coach's face was dumbfounded. He didn't look angry that a student just openly stood up to him like that, but more mortified that he was at the brunt of an angry female's wrath. He cleared his throat after a moment. "Well, why didn't you say so?" He played it off. "I'm not a mind reader!" He huffed and rolled his eyes in mock duress, then stomped back over to the front of the bus.
That went better than I expected. Coach wasn't someone who took cheek from students and never hesitated on laying down a particularly humiliating punishment to anyone who said or did anything remotely idiotic. I guess I caught him off guard. I sank back against the cushion and shut my eyes, hoping to block out everything else, so it would just be me and the strain pulling at the wires of my brain. Silence would mean having to deal with all these worries and fears eating away at the deepest corners of my mind, but it was better than not feeling anything at all. As Mom once said, letting my emotions flow was the only was to make the wounds heal. But I didn't know how to start or where. So they stayed open, gaping and festering.
I needed Derek...
But he wasn't there, yet somehow I could still feel him. All around and all over me, an extra heartbeat echoing within my chest. I tried telling myself that he was gone and thinking about him wouldn't bring him back, but I just couldn't let it go. Not that easily. I saw him fall from that ledge, watched him take his final breathe and the bright red irises of his eyes gradually fade into nothingness. How could he be alive? He couldn't. He wasn't. Although my instincts told me otherwise. I swallowed a rising lump in my throat and blinked away wetness dotting the corner of my eyes. I couldn't let myself fall apart like this. Not when my friends needed a pillar to lean against. I sniffled, warmth flooding my cheeks and I breathed in the deceptively sour stench of expired yogurt and rotten apples. Did someone drop their lunch bag? I thought to myself and nudged at the little latches on the window for some air, but they wouldn't budge.
Then it hit me.
Food wasn't allowed on the bus.
Someone had definitely just retched. Everyone jumped at the exact same moment the second the sick guy, Jared, began hacking up a lung. Chunky liquid dripped from his lips. My stomach bubbled at the image, so I got up and followed the stampeding herd as they all fought each other to run head first out of the parked bus. The sliding doors whooshed open, cold air hitting us square in the face as the empty rest stop came into view. There were a few lunch tables strewn about, a male and female bathroom stalls, and even a convenient vending machine that looked out of order. Most of the student body dry heaved and coughed the nauseating stench of vomit out of their systems while Stiles and Allison helped Scott wobble all the way to the bathroom. I trailed behind them, walking backwards in case the lone Alpha twin saw what we were up to and decided to invite himself. But he looked preoccupied with Danny.
"Jared, you suck!" Coach Finstock yipped at the queasy kid from the open bus window, a can of air freshener in his hand. "Hey, somebody grab some towels or a mop. Or a new bus."
Stiles and Allison cautiously dragged the ailing beta beside the sinks and lowered him down. He writhed in pain as Allison lifted his bloodied shirt. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Sorry," was all he could muster to say, weakly.
Allison breathed heavily. "Okay. Just give us a second, okay?" She stood up and rejoined us, features twisted with worry. "This shouldn't be happening. I've seen him heal from worse than this."
"Okay, what do we do then? Do we just call an ambulance?" Stiles suggested.
"What if it's too late? What if they can't help?" Allison replied.
"This would be kind of difficult to explain to a couple of ETMs," I pointed out, clasping my hands at the back my hand as I gazed at the slash across Scott's side that clearly was not made by anything remotely human. "They'd figure it out."
"We gotta do something."
"You know," Lydia began precariously. "It could be psychological."
"What do you mean, like, psychosomatic?" Stiles inquired.
"Somatoformic."
"Som-" Stiles struggled to pronounce it.
"A physical illness from a psychogenic cause," Lydia explained. Stiles gave her a dead expression and made a spasm gesture with his hand. "Yes, it's all in his head."
"All in his head?" Stiles mused for a moment before a realization struck him. His lips parted. "Because of Derek. He's not letting himself heal 'cause Derek died." My gut pinched at the mention of his name, a faint contradiction tugging at the instinct cord to not believe any of it; to hold out for whatever selfish reason that he somehow managed to make it out of that mall alive. It was all just excuses now. Telling myself there was a sliver of hope left was like drinking poison and expecting someone else to die. I watched him fall as if my hands were the ones that pushed him themselves. Derek was gone. I had to be strong now. For the pack, for my family. For him. But I couldn't be strong for myself and that alone was a failure. My eyes swelled with warm moisture, but I quickly blinked it away.
Not now, I scolded myself. Not now.
"So what do we do?" Allison asked.
Lydia scrambled for something in her purse and brandished what looked like to be needle and a bundle of thread. "Stitch him up." We all shot her wary glances. "I'm serious. Maybe all he needs to do is just believe it's healing."
We all grew quiet, pondering the outcome if it didn't work and what it would mean for Scott's well being. We couldn't take any unnecessary chances with him, but wasting time could have certainly shortened his life line as it was. "It's worth a shot," I told them after a minute.
Stiles nodded as Allison begun to prepare at the dingy sinks. She warmed the needle point with a lighter as I helped Stiles soak up some of the blood seeping from Scott's gash with paper towels. The ill beta was periodically slipping in and out of consciousness.
"He's gonna need another shirt. Where's his bag?"
"Um, I'm gonna get it. I hate needles anyway, so..." Stiles answered and made a move toward the door. Then he paused. "Uh, do you know what you're doing?" He asked with uncertainty.
"Yeah, my father taught me."
"I mean, how fast are you gonna- I mean, the bus, like, the bus could leave."
"Okay, just make sure it doesn't leave," Allison said to him bluntly.
"I can help," Lydia grabbed Stiles his hand and towed him toward the exit. "Come on."
That left Allison and I to fend with whatever supplies we had in our knapsacks. I piled more paper towels under Scott's indisposed figure to further sop up the bodily fluids that might leak out during Allison's stitches, glancing up at his face every now and then to see if he were still breathing. And he was, but barely. He must have lost a lot of blood since the fight. I stood up and watched with baited breath as Allison knelt down and coaxed him soothingly to stay conscious, needle and thread in hand. She shakily began to guide the yarn point through the meager space in the metal pin, but missed after many attempts. There was a tremble to her chin, as if she were trying to suppress tears and a part of me wanted to go up and comfort her and tell her that she could do this, but maybe all she needed was silence; and her own belief that she could get it done. I didn't want to make the dire situation worse and distract her with my presence, so I quietly tip toed out to the door to keep watch.
The students were lolling around on the benches, airing their nostrils out from Jared's vile upchucking and rolling their eyes as Coach Finstock ranted about how much he disliked the poor puking boy. Stiles and Lydia were waiting by the side of the bus, appearing very fretful. Their eyes met mine and a silent question gleamed behind them, but I just slowly shook my head, indicating that Scott was still out cold. How did we even get to this point? I wondered. The pack was so fractured now, unsure of ourselves and where to go from there. The one who usually led and kept the way lit for us was rapidly losing life. Time was racing against us to take someone else away. The third damn time. My hands clenched in repressed anger. After all we've struggled to keep safe and sane, death was still adding lives to their roster. First Ellis... now Derek. How was I supposed to move on from this? What was the point when people I needed were being ripped away from me? How long until I lost everyone else?
How long would it be until I lost myself?
I hated this. I hated everything.
"Let's go! Back on the bus!" Coach Finstock declared when our transportation was aired out.
Through the sea of student bodies, I slunk past the clusters until Stiles and Lydia came into view, still rooted in their spot. "Allison needs more time," I told them quietly and their expressions doused with concern.
Isaac and Boyd were standing side by side a few feet away, but when they saw our dwindling numbers, they came toward us. "Hey, where's Scott?" Isaac inquired.
Stiles hesitated, glancing at Lydia and I. If he didn't take the death of his Alpha well, who knew how he would process another one of us perishing. "He's, uh, ... he's hurt. We got him in the bathroom."
"What?" Boyd perked up. "What happened to him?"
"He's not healing," Stiles said. "He's got a nasty, huge gash and it's not healing."
Isaac glared over his shoulder at Ethan, who was subtly flirting with Danny and the muscles under his thin long sleeve rippled. "It was them, wasn't it?" He said hotly.
"He's gonna be fine," I said, eyeing the way his pupils contracted. Just that one bit of news was enough to get his blood boiling. "Allison is with him - wait, Isaac, no!" My protest ran short as both Boyd and Isaac stomped a fiery trail over the lone Alpha male. Isaac shoved the stronger lycan's shoulder, making Ethan stumble and words were spoken, but the overlapping of chattering from other students drowned out what exactly they were saying. I swapped a quick, perturbed glance with Stiles before darting back to the bathrooms to check in on Allison's progress. When I swooped in around the corner, Scott's side was perfectly patched up, dark blood wiped clean from his torso, and he was now standing with mild strength on his own two legs again. I aided Allison in walking him out the door, coiling his limp arm around my neck with his cherry red duffle bag slung over my shoulder. It was heavy, like bricks were stored inside.
"Is he okay?' Lydia came rushing to us. "Are you okay?"
Scott nodded. "Stiles. Where's Stiles?" he asked.
"Trying to stall Coach," Lydia told him and took the bag from my shoulder, so I could help Scott walk with more ease. Hopefully Stiles handled the testosterone battle with the fellow lycans. "We still don't have gas," Lydia added.
"I'm not leaving him," Allison answered briskly.
"Then we have to leave the car."
"Sounds good."
"What?" Lydia came to a halt, leaving us to walk ahead of her. "That wasn't an actual suggestion."
"Just call a tow truck," I called to her over my shoulder, already feeling an achy pain from the Scott's colossal bicep pressing close to my neck. He really needed to stop working out so much.
"Guys, wait," Lydia beckoned, then mumbled something incoherent under her breathe before trudging back over to us as we approached the rest of the student body. They were all crowed in a semi circle, cheering happily as if they were at front row seats to a wresting match.
"Stiles, what's happening?" Scott said to his best friend.
"They went after him," Stiles explained. "I told 'em what was happening with you and they just went after him."
"Who? Boyd?" Scott pushed through the herd to find a helpless, battered Ethan being pummeled by a raving Isaac. The beta's fist met the Alpha's jaw is a speedy, bloody succession, brutal punches after another so hard you'd think every bone in the Alpha's face were about to crack. Boyd observed from the sidelines, smirking wryly at the scene. Coach Finstock and two other boys tried sustaining the furious teen, but his power was too strong for them to control and he easily broke to beat away at the defenseless Alpha wolf. A part of me silently cheered for him. Good, I thought to myself. This is what he deserved. This is what they all deserved. I had hoped to be the one to deliver this to them. But just watching it play out was satisfying enough.
Scott called out Isaac's name then, sharp and precise, exactly what he needed to yank him back from his blood lust. He stepped away in a daze and gazed at Scott, breathing heavily. It seemed like in all that two minutes of savage beating, all the stress was lifted from his shoulders. And now he stood with a calmer, content face. Danny hurried to Ethan's side, blood trickling from his mouth as he tried to breathe steadily. Isaac did a real number on him. I wished he had done more. Everyone grew quiet as the ruckus died down, silent stares and soft whispers revolving around us as Isaac shuffled back to our group, hanging his hand slightly. He didn't look ashamed, just... surprised. Shocked that he left himself get to that level. We all had land mines.
Some were easier to set off than others.
[O]
The abandoned mall was swathed with specks of dusts and chipped concrete. Pieces of the marble pillars were missing chunks and plating of the floor looked like it had been removed. It was nearly pitch black inside, lame amount of light shining in through cracks in the ceiling and window sources. Rumors went around that there were organized crime going around in the stores, a lot of theft and and inside jobs from the employees and that was why they had to shut down. Some objects were left behind in it's final days, like damaged mannequins and little push carts that vendors used to sell their phone cases or jewelry. The food court signs still hung lopsided above the cashier counter, the dull scent of butter popcorn, pretzels and melted cheese leaving a nostalgic smear in the air. I only ever got to visit the mall when it was still alive and prospering once before it's closure a little over five years ago. It was nothing extra special than any regular mall, save for another story higher and better quality restrooms.
It was creepy walking through it now. Surreal, as if it were another dimension. Derek found a way in for the rest of the pack that wouldn't cause too much noise, given how much broken glass and foundation was littered everywhere. Turned out Scott had embraced his inner Dick Tracy and planned a secret meeting with Deucalion and Deucalion alone. I'm not sure how Derek inferred this, but he wasn't one to undermine when it came to perception. I guess when you've been double crossed so many times, you can't help but be over vigilant of it all. Convincing Derek that I'd be coming along with him wasn't much of a wrangle like I thought it'd be. I think we finally came to terms that if we wanted to keep each other safe, we'd have to be where each other were during dangerous times. It wasn't a guarantee that we'd both come out in one piece, but at least I'd know he'd have a better chance with me there.
Derek had us wait in the shadows, lurking behind him as Scott rode in on his motor bike with Isaac clinging close at his side. He was another that was surprisingly aware. Super keen werewolf senses, I guessed.
The head Alpha stood calmly on the stagnant escalator. "You didn't come alone."
"Yeah." Scott gestured to his fellow beta. "This is Isaac."
"I'm not talking about Isaac," Deucalion replied coolly.
A beat passed before Derek emerged from the darkness, features beastly transformed as his red glowing eyes never left Deucalion's form. I nervously stood in between Boyd and Cora, wondering how this would play out. The notorious head Alpha supposedly never left his Alpha pack's side, or more like, they never left him without an escort. He seemed more than capable to find his way around without a hand for guidance, but the victim role went a long way for some people.
"You knew I would do this," Scott told Derek. "Derek, don't. You can't do this and no one gets hurt. If someone else dies-"
"Him," Derek finished, pointing a clawed finger at the self righteous Alpha standing above. "Just him."
"Just me?" Deucalion repeated, amusement bleeding into his tone. He spread his hands slightly. "Now, how's a blind man find his way into a place like this all on his own?"
The pitter patter of tiny rock pebbles crumbling echoed from above, as if the roof were about to collapse. A tall, nimble figure came sliding down the nearest pillar, hair dark and long, eyes red as blood. It was the woman, Kali. Her claws were extended, long nails on her toes black as night as she dropped to her feet and bared her fangs. But she wasn't the only backup Deucalion brought. The big, brawny guy, Ennis I remembered his name being, came stalking up the right broken escalator, looking more tall and imposing than before. Up on the highest level, stood the twins. Shirtless and looking ready to bench press a couple of quarterbacks. My gut sank as I gazed in every flanked direction. We might not have been outnumbered, but we were severely overpowered.
Derek locked his ruby irises with Kali for a moment, before setting his sights on Deucalion and sprinting straight for him. But Kali leaped in front of him before could cross the boundary. The Alpha twins flipped down to our level, merging into one huge monster. It was all happening in a single spur, I barely had any time to react when Kali came towering in front of me, stepping over Derek as she knocked him down with a swipe of her heel. Since she rudely broke into my house, I had the feeling that she was itching to sink her claws into me. And judging from the almost feral look in her eyes, it was like a dream come true to her. Her sharp nails come soaring toward my neck, but I ducked and caught her wrist as she was about to pull it back and hyper extended her elbow with a simple snap backwards. She hissed in pain, eyes burning bright and tried wrenching her arm free, but I gave it a quick twist and threw it away from me, then used the time she took in growling in pain to kick her in her side. She flinches, snarling so loudly it send vibrations through my ear drums.
She spun around and flung her clawed foot toward my cheek, which I barely parried and it ended up gashing my right eyebrow. Blood ran down my eyelid, seeping into my eye, partially blinding me in the process. Everything became blurry and out of focus from one eye and I could scarcely make out her clawed fingers flying down. I managed to counter it with my metal protected forearm, but reflexes weren't so swift for my sightless right side and she got in a good hit on my cheek. Five scratches flooded down to my neck and the sudden jolt of pain woke me up enough to parry her next three hit attempts as she swung and spun. When one of her nails snagged on the jagged edges of my blades, I swept her feet out from under her and her back smashed to the floor. I pressed my boot to her abdomen, the overwhelming surge of energy overriding any sense of rationality and coloring every thing else into needing to finish it here and now. I was about to sink my blade into her chest, but the iron grip of Ennis grasped me by the back of the neck and threw me against a pillar.
I slide down the marble furnishing into a sitting position, wiping blood from my eyelid with the back of my hand and looked up as Kali stood to her bare feet with a vengeance and began to re-engage Derek. Ennis was stalking his way toward me, but Cora and Boyd attacked at both his sides, tagging teaming him as Derek continued his feud with Kali.
Derek's eyes skimmed for me as the chaos ensued and locked onto my spot, drained near the pillar. "Go!" Derek ordered. "Alessandra, go!"
"No, I'm not leaving you!" I protested, attempting to stand, but Ennis' powerful throw knocked most of the energy out of me. Great. Now I was useless. Forced to watch as my friends clashed against a greater power like supernatural gladiators. From the corner of my eye, I caught a shadowy figure slink along the top level, tall and slim in physique. Something large was strapped to their back and it took me a minute to fully register who it was. "Allison?" I whispered to myself, eyes squinting slightly. She must have noticed my slumped figure because she discreetly waved her hand for me to come to her location.
I gazed back at the others, eyelids drooping from the dull pain aching at the back of my head and watched as Ennis dislocated Cora's shoulder and flung her to the ground. This wasn't going to happen again. I wasn't going to watch helplessly as somebody died. No... no, this time I could do something. And nothing would stop me. Shakily, I dipped and swayed uneasily to my feet, eyes raking for any logical space to climb up to meet Allison. There was another pillar leaning against the very base of the top level and reached just high enough for someone to carefully grapple up. I didn't want to leave Derek alone like that, but if it meant ridding him of this Alpha threat for good, I had to try. So, cautiously, I tip toed past the brawling lycans and scaled the crumpled pillar to where Allison stood. She had her ebony bow gripped tightly in one hand.
"How'd you find us?" I whispered to her.
She smiled a tiny bit. "I followed you."
Down below, Kali had Cora pinned beneath her foot while Ennis and the blended twins subdued the others. "Kill him," Deucalion coldly commanded Derek when he and Boyd exchanged glances. "The others can go." He slowly descended the escalator. "You're beaten. Do it, Derek. Take the first step."
Derek paused, looking between all his betas. His wolf features seemed to be in limbo; he had no idea what to do.
"Are we serious with this kid?" Kali remarked at his silence. "Look at him. He's an Alpha? To what? A couple of useless teenagers?"
"Some have more promise than others," Deucalion said.
"Let him rise to the occasion then," Kali shot back. "What'll it be, Derek? Pack or family?" She pressed down on Cora's throat then, making her gasp for air. Derek's eyes tightened, an unreadable emotion brewing under his tepid gaze, but still he refused to speak. "Choose," Kali hissed. "If you don't, I'll find your girlfriend and break her pretty little neck."
Allison glanced at me then, sliding the arrow into it's proper firing place. "I can't shoot them all at once," she stated quietly. "I'll need your help."
I knew what she meant by that. A few spare knives were tucked into my belt loop, just enough for a couple well aimed throws. Paired with her flashbolt arrowheads and nightshade laced daggers, it was a good chance as any to get them the hell out of there. I took two from their slots, flipped them in my hands and two targets automatically came to mind. Kali and Ennis.
"On three?" Allison said, lifting up her bow so it was directed over the merged twins.
I nodded as silence crept over us both, the countdown ticking slowly in our heads, before we released our shots. Allison's arrow made a ringing noise as it cut through the air like an angry bird in flight. Derek heard the shrill noise early and dodged the onslaught as it zipped past him and grazed the Alpha twins' head. It knocked them to the floor, separating them into two as the arrow burst into bright blinding light. My dagger found it's prey exactly at Kali's leg, lodging straight into her hamstring. I smirked when she yowled in pain and did the same for Ennis. Except his dug right below his collarbone. His growl of agony was even more satisfying than the last.
"Your eyes!" Deucalion exclaimed to his pack. "Cover your eyes!"
Allison's talent was far beyond anyone could fathom. Her aim was precise and dead on the bullseye. She reloaded each arrow from her quiver in rapid succession and each shot fired was quicker than before. The pure white light left the Alpha pack temporary visually impaired, giving the others a perfect opportunity to catch their breath and reassemble each other. Allison grabbed my hand and we walked a few steps to met them below before any more blood could shed, but the sound of flesh meeting flesh made us freeze in our tracks. Scott and Ennis had charged each other head long, the force of their bodies colliding sending one another flying backwards. I thought I saw Scott's eyes briefly flicker to crimson, but it was far away and the air was highly filtered with dust, so it may have been a trick of the angle. Scott blinked, then faced a prowling Ennis, but Derek swooped in from behind and ambush attacked him.
They hurled their claws at each other, hit and missing as they pivoted closer and closer to the ledge. They seized each other's shoulders, ripping and tearing at their clothes, struggling for dominance as Scott crawled up behind Ennis' lower leg and slashed the back of his calf. The sudden shock of pain sent the rogue Alpha off balance. He turned and took a clumsy step backward, hands still tight around Derek's long sleeve and pitched into the awaiting space below. I almost breathed a sigh of relief, until I realized that Derek, having been caught in the more powerful man's snare, went down with him. Their shapes disappeared under the ridge, silence engulfing the entire building, before two tremendous booms echoed from every corner. I didn't know what happened inside of me, but all I could recall is racing down the angled pillar, my mind screaming but body feeling nothing all at once. Scott was frozen in his werewolf form, gazing into space with a disturbed look on his face.
I dropped to my knees, a mild tremble to my hands and gazed beneath at the life taking height. There, laying motionless on the broken escalator stairs, was Derek. And from the vast distance between us, our eyes seem to lock; the intimidating red glow to his irises quickly fading from his eyes to nothingness. Get up, I told him silently in my head, nails digging in painfully into the cement edge. Come on, Get up. GET UP, GET UP, GET UP. My eyes washed over with warmth, hot and stingy, but I forcefully choked them back and pushed the side of my hand against my nose as memories flooded my brain. Don't do this to me, I thought wrathfully, looking up at the ceiling. Don't make me say goodbye. Not again. I sat back on my shoe heels, eyes downcast, staring into oblivion like an empty slate that eerily mirrored the way Scott appeared. Soft footsteps came up at my right and a gentle touched my arm, skin so smooth that it could only belong to Allison. Her voice spoke to me quietly, saying my name repeating and asking me if I was okay, asking to to say anything really.
But I didn't.
I just sat there, and looked on, and on. Until everything became too small to remember.
[O]
It hurt to recollect it all. I blocked most of it out, because I knew I wasn't strong enough to go through it all over again. But in reality, all it was really doing was letting the wound bleed out. Thinking about it, reliving every moment up until that very second my heart fell dead would be like pressuring the cut so it could cauterize and fully heal. An evil of some sort, but a necessary one. Necessary if I still wanted to be of any help to my friends and I did. A walking, mute zombie had no purpose and that was what I felt I was rapidly becoming. All that I was telling myself this isn't what Derek would have wanted, when I forget to think about what everyone else needed too. Despite that incomplete ache that still beat steadily within my chest, there was reason to keep going, to see this to the end. I had family, friends... and myself. Derek had always expressed how important it was for him to keep the pack safe. He straddled death's border so many time for us.
Now he was gone. The very thing I was terrified of and strove to fight against took him from me. His voice... the feel of his scruff over bare skin, the rough pads of his fingers ghosting over my cheek. Those were things I remembered so freshly, as though he were sitting beside me, touching me still, speaking to me. His absence was like a rotting, gaping hole. Impenetrable and dark. Something that was possible to walk through, but paralyzing and lonely. Stray tears leaked out from the corner of my eyes, warm and tangible. The bitter saltiness dribbled past my top lip onto my tongue as I mutely clapped a hand across my mouth, a weak and pathetic sob bursting from me. Rambunctious laughter from three jocks behind camouflaged the cries, making them sound small and almost noiseless, like mouse squeaks. It felt such a relief, to cry finally. I've been holding everything in for so long, I didn't allow myself to truly mourn and feel, like I previously did for Ellis.
It scared me, to roll through the motions again. Waking up soaked in my own tears, a name on the tip of my tongue with memories just sleeping between my fingers. I was just beginning to heal from Ellis' loss. Losing Derek was like falling into gravital pit with no way of hitting the bottom. It tore every little nick and cut open again. I didn't know if I could be whole again. Not with all the rage and sadness. A sadness that was on it's way to a deep depression and resentment. The buzzing in my front pocket startled me then. I jumped slightly in my seat, wiping the tears drying on my cheeks up and away with the heel of my hand, before checking the popup box. Dad had sent a text.
'How's the meet coming along?' The message read. I didn't yet tell him or Mom about what happened at the mall. They eyed my cold, closed of behavior when I packed for the trip, but I just brushed it off as a result of a bad night's sleep due to PMS. If they ever found out what went down in that derelict building, they'd hunt the school bus down and drag me back home by the roots of my hair.
I typed back a reply. 'Fine. Had some traffic trouble, but it's cleared up now'
'You know, if you get bored, I could always come and get you' His response appeared seconds later.
I stared at the white screen for a second, droplets of tears landing on the glass and running a messy trail to the base and considered his offer. The remaining group sat comfortably in the back rows, so I glanced over at them wistfully. I couldn't leave them. Who knew what could have been waiting at the continuing roads ahead? As long I was still alive and heart pumping, I'd do whatever it took to shield them from harm. Even if I had nothing... I still had them. They were always there for me.
'Thanks, dad, but I'll be okay'
I turned off my cell then, and tucked it back into my overnight bag. The sun was setting off in the distance, splashes of faded red and burnt orange. By the time we'd reach the motel we were staying at, it'd be in the middle of the night. I was almost eager to get the opportunity to lay down and shut my eyes. It was the only time Derek appeared to me, in my head. But each time he did, an echo vibrated in my chest. Faint, but full of longing. It was like the time when a spellbound Lydia drugged and dragged Derek to the Hale house; instinctual pull luring me to his location. It was almost as if... he were still alive.
But no... that wasn't true.
He's gone, I drilled to myself.
He's gone.
A/N: I hope that wasn't too depressing. :( I really enjoyed writing this, although some parts were tricky to get right. I can't wait to get started on Motel California since a lot of creepy stuff goes down in that episode. I hope I wrote Alessandra's reaction toward Derek's "death" alright. I wanted to have her slowly descend into grief, starting with anger first, then denial, before she really lets the sadness hit her. Next chapter will include a Derek POV. And you might see a familiar face coming back to haunt Alessandra...
Since the profile links aren't working (probably by the time they're fixed, pallbearers will be carrying my casket to the grave), my tumblr url for Black Sun is thearetinoway. Feel free to shoot me a message and ask me anything you like. :) Sometimes I post snippets of future chapters and whatnot.
SolarStar asked: Speaking of Dally after they breakup, will Alessandra find it difficult to forgive the situation and reconcile quickly or will it be a long road for them?
Answer: She will come to forgive and understand what happened, since Derek didn't have complete control over his actions because of what Jennifer does in Motel California (you'll see what I mean). They don't automatically get back together, given that he leaves with Cora soon after Lunar Ellipse, but they still keep in touch until he comes back. Or more like until he gets held hostage. Poor bro can't have a good day. :D
To my guest reviewer Sara: That's a great suggestion! I'll definitely work it into the story.
Also, I'd like to take the time to thank everyone for sticking with me this far and putting up with my sporadic update schedule. Seriously, I never thought I'd reach this many followers/favorites when I first posted the story. This was initially just something for me to do to pass the time when I was bored and maybe entertain a few people in the process, but thanks to you, it's become a lot more now. :) It's been such a pleasure to guide Alessandra's growth these past couple years. Your feedback helps me shape her into who she is today (you've had a hand in writing her too. It's not all just me). I'd like to think that you know her just as well as I do at this point and hopefully you've found something in her that you can relate to and that she can give you that little extra nudge you need during difficult times. :)
Thanks for reading! I love you all so, so much. :)
