Chapter 52

"Wake up, darling. I'm home."

She opened her eyes. Victor Ford was sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling at her. His white shirt was soaked in blood and his skin was ghostly pale. Skye tried to get away from him but her muscles wouldn't move. All she could do was lie there and look at him, panic building up inside of her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "You're supposed to be dead."

His grin grew even wider. "I brought you a present." he said, gesturing towards the other side of the bed. "I hope you like it."

Slowly, very slowly, Skye turned her head. Part of her already knew what she would see, but her heart still skipped a beat when she saw Ford's present. It was Derek, lying motionless on the bed next to her, his eyes staring without seeing anything. His throat had been slashed and there was blood everywhere, so much blood. Skye gasped. "No." she whispered. "No. Bring him back. You have to bring him back."

Ford shrugged. "Sorry, darling, I can't do that. Personally, I think it's one of my finest works though. Can't you see the irony of it? He died the way you killed me. It's hilarious, don't you think?"

Suddenly, there was a knife in his hand and the grin was back. It looked like he was baring his teeth. "And now you will die that way too, Skye." he growled. Then he lunged forward, and Skye screamed.

She awoke gasping for air, her heart racing in her chest. She tried to force herself to take slow, even breaths as she buried her head in her hands, but it didn't work. The nightmare was still too fresh inside of her mind, the picture of Derek's bloody body next to her burned into the inside of her eyelids.

Next to her, Derek stirred. "Skye?" he asked, his voice rough with sleepiness. "Are you okay?"

Skye didn't dare look at him, in case she was still dreaming and he would only look at her blankly with blood gushing from his neck. "I'm fine." she whispered, even though she was sure Derek wouldn't believe her lie. He could hear her heartbeat, after all.

She was right. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her against his chest. "It's alright." he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. "I'm right here. You're safe. Everything's fine."

Slowly, she relaxed into his embrace. Tears started running down her face and she turned around, hiding her face against Derek's shoulder. He gently ran his hand up and down her back. "What did you dream about?" he asked somewhere above her. "Ford." she simply replied, her voice weirdly strangled. She felt like talking about the nightmare would make it real.

When her crying subsided, she pulled away. "Go back to sleep." she murmured quietly. "I'll just get a glass of water." Without waiting for his answer, she got out of the bed and walked over to the kitchen.

Her hands were trembling when she grabbed a glass from the cupboard. For a while she just stood there like that, holding on to the glass so tight she could see her knuckles whiten. Then suddenly arms wrapped around her waist from behind and she almost dropped it. Her breath hitched in her throat until she realized it was Derek. "You scared me." she said, her heart still beating a little too fast. "Why are you still up?"

He nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck, his beard tickling her skin. "You shouldn't be alone." he muttered.

Skye felt warmth spread inside of her at his protectiveness and for a moment she wanted to tell him about the nightmare as if he could take the pain away then, but of course, as much as she loved him, he couldn't do that. "I'm fine, Derek." she assured him, turning so she could look at him. "You're tired. How much did you actually sleep in the last three days?"

Derek shrugged. "Five hours, I think. But I'm fine." He was lying. She could tell he was tired from his slightly slurred speech and his still half-closed eyes. Worry for her was probably the only thing keeping him awake right now. She shot him a small smile. "Seriously, you should go back to sleep."

Something in his face changed. Suddenly, he looked sad and when he spoke, he sounded strangely vulnerable. "Don't do this, Skye." he said quietly. "Don't shut me out. Talk to me, please."

He sounded so desperate that she couldn't do anything else but throw herself into his arms, burying her face against his neck. "I'm sorry." she whispered. "It's just… talking about it won't make anything better. I still keep seeing Ford's face in every corner, even though I rationally know that he's dead. It's like he's still taunting me, telling me that even though he's gone it won't… it won't bring them back."

She bit her lower lip to keep more tears from flowing. Derek pulled her closer. "There's no bringing them back." he said very quietly. "Believe me, I've tried. But that doesn't mean killing Ford didn't mean anything. You saved people, Skye, people who would've died if you hadn't destroyed the Guardians and taken down their leader. I'm sure your family would be very proud of you." He took her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him. "I'm proud of you." he whispered.

He leaned down and kissed her. She kissed him back, closing her eyes and feeling nothing but his touch for a moment. When he pulled away, his forehead was still resting against hers. "You might be the best thing that's ever happened to me." she breathed out.

Derek smiled. "You are definitely the best thing that's happened to me." He had to stifle a yawn and Skye chuckled. "So you are tired after all." He gave her a guilty look. "Maybe a little." he admitted.

She took his hand, leading him back towards the bed. "Come on then. Let's go back to sleep. You need to be rested for that other round you promised me."


Frustrated, Lydia threw her sneakers into a corner of the room, followed by her sweaty gym clothes. This had definitely been one of her worst ideas ever.

After the fight against Raina, where she had been able to do nothing but huddle into a corner and let Aiden and Ethan protect her, Lydia had decided that something needed to change. She didn't want to keep being the damsel in distress. Stiles, who didn't exactly have superhuman powers either, at least knew how to fire a gun. All she could do was scream, and that wouldn't do her much good in any fight.

So she had signed up for a self-defense class for women at the local gym, which had been nothing but one huge disappointment. She had made it all of two lessons before she had realized that nothing she would learn there would do her any good in an actual fight. And, well, since actual fights were what she was trying to prepare for, she didn't see the purpose of spending her time in a room filled with a bunch of sweaty housewives, grumpy teens and an over-motivated coach named Brandi.

As relieved as she was to never have to hear Brandi's voice again, this left her just where she'd started – utterly defenseless. And she couldn't think of anyone who would be able to teach her how to fight a werewolf without having claws on her own or being particularly good with weapons.

Well, actually she could. She had only seen Skye fight once, but that had been enough to see that even without weapons or superpowers she would probably be able to hold her own against a werewolf. Of course, Lydia didn't even know if Skye was still alive.

Ever since the fight, this question had been bothering her. Her vision of Skye's death still haunted her, and not knowing whether it had come true or whether Skye had somehow evaded her fate made it even worse.

An idea started to form in Lydia's head. Maybe she should pay Derek a visit. She was still a bit wary of him, but if anyone had heard from Skye, it would be him.

When the hot water of the shower started pouring down on her, slowly easing the tension out of her muscles, her resolve fastened. Tomorrow, she would go visit Derek, even if that would only leave her with more uncertainty. She couldn't stand doing nothing.