Chapter 52
1 Week Later…
"Practice is cancelled again?" Danny exclaimed angrily. His cheeks pulled in with a seething inhale. "That's the fifth time in the last two weeks."
He huffed then stormed out of the locker room. Isaac was still in a coma. None of them had discovered a full proof idea to keep him alive if they brought him out of it. Melanie's funeral was tomorrow. The emotional burdens were piling up and people left and right were exploding unable to hold back any longer.
Stiles and Scott chased after Danny.
"Danny, wait up," Stiles called.
Danny stopped, but made no effort to turn and face them. He stared at the tarnished linoleum floor angrily. His shoulders were tense. Stiles stayed a step back from him, not shy about how nervous he was that Danny would take a swing at one of them if the wrong thing was said.
"How can you do this to him? Drug him for so long? He has to deal with it. We all do," he said low. "You have to wake him up."
"He could die." Scott said. "We still haven't-"
"You're not going to figure out a way to fix him! He lost his mate, his best friend, his girlfriend! There is no cure for loss, Scott. There's only time and you're letting him waste away in a coma. That's worse. He doesn't even get to fight."
"He won't fight, Danny. He will let himself die. There is a deep, jagged hole in him because that bitch killed Melanie! She is gone and we could lose him next because of it. Their bond to each other-" Stiles's speech was cut short by being thrown against the lockers by Danny.
An enraged look shadowed his face.
"Don't tell me what they were. I know more than you think." Danny gritted out. "She was my best friend."
Scott put his hand on Danny's shoulder, his fingers gripping the muscle tightly as a warning. Danny let go and snatch up his gym bag that he had dropped and stormed off.
"Danny we should stick together," Scott hollered after him.
"I'm going to the hospital!" Danny yelled.
Allison and Chris sat side by side across from Isaac.
"How is he?"
They both turned to see Danny walk in.
"Still asleep. There's been no movement." Chris replied tiredly. He looked at the disposable coffee cup in his hands and then tossed it in the trashcan where four others resided.
"And the darach?"
"Most of the information Melanie had on her has been destroyed, but Stiles is trying to decode what he can out of their remains."
"You guys should go and get some rest with the funeral being tomorrow." Danny said, collapsing in the chair beside the bed.
Chris and Allison shared a wary look. With Danny having gone off the rails emotionally, they weren't so sure that they wanted to leave him with Isaac.
"Are you sure?" Allison said. "I don't mind staying."
"You skipped school to sit here all day. It's okay," Danny said quietly.
He rubbed his tired eyes. They both stalked out of the room. As soon as the door clicked Danny locked it then rushed to Isaac's side. He switched of the heart monitor and took the hook-up to it off of his finger. He then grabbed the IV tube and ripped it out of the crease of Isaac's arm.
"It's time to wake up."
Lydia stared at her ghostly reflection in the mirror. No matter how much make-up she applied, there wasn't enough to cover up the grief. It was grey outside. It wasn't expected to rain. How original for a funeral, she thought. She imagined what Melanie would say.
At least your hair is bright like a lightbulb. Or something stupid about her red hair. Her eyes watered as she applied mascara. Not from poking herself in the eye but from thinking about all the things she wouldn't say now. No more ginger quips.
"Honey," her mom said softly, peeking into the room, "are you sure you want to wear that to the burial?"
"Mom," she huffed, "the bitch wouldn't want me wearing black. She'd complain that I'm not wearing my usual uptight Mary Jane's with some ridiculous get-up. So yes, I'm going to wear this."
Lydia threw the mascara down and stood upright and stiff. She wore a sunny yellow, floral print dress with a blue cardigan and blue pumps to match.
"Alright. Allison is downstairs."
Lydia hurried past her and down the stairs. Allison wore all black right down to her combat boots.
"My dad is in the car," she mumbled, tucking her bangs behind her ear.
Lydia didn't stop. She rushed out the front door, leaving it open. Allison gave Ms. Martin a brief , cordial smile and closed the door behind her on the way out.
Scott and Derek were already there when they reached the cemetery. They didn't acknowledge each other. Their distant stares made them look like they were alone, though they stood across from each other. Two separate people with no intention of talking to one another as if they were acquaintances. Cora stood beside her brother and stared at the pile of freshly dug up earth.
Stiles and the sheriff pulled in behind them. Stiles looked as if he hadn't slept from the disheveled mess of his hair and clothes. Cora walked over to meet him, allowing him to take her in his arms. She let go that that moment and laid her head on his shoulder.
Lydia got out after a moment of wondering if she'd break before the ceremony even began. How she'd break, she wasn't sure. Maybe screaming, but she wasn't sure she'd cry. She stared at the casket as it hovered above the six foot deep grave. The dewy grass dampened her toes, making her even more uncomfortable than she already was.
"I hate her," Lydia spat.
"Come on, girls," Chris ushered them forward.
Lydia stuttered a step at seeing Isaac come across the graveyard. She looked at Scott, wondering if he saw him too. He was up and walking. Strangely, he looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks. His cheeks were thin, the bones protruding his sickly pale skin.
"Isaac?" Scott said. "How?"
"I woke him up," Danny said, joining them. The twins stood on either side.
"It's only right that I put her to rest," Isaac murmured barely above a whisper.
He glared at Derek hatefully.
The preacher arrived ten minutes later to give his sermon. Lydia watched as each of them cried except for Derek. Isaac was silent and still as stone, but the tears crept down over cheeks.
"…And though you will be missed deeply and truly, we know that you are in a better place now. May you, Melanie Rouxe, rest in peace." The preacher finished.
Danny shifted uncomfortably.
Lydia tried to stifle an obnoxious snort. How did one who was stabbed viciously rest in peace, she wondered. The most peaceful way to go was to drown. Their last enemy, Matt, got that lucky death. The quietness of the water plugging up your ears. Struggling to breathe and then suddenly…nothing. Melanie didn't get that. No, she screamed, trying to escape this six foot deep fate.
Chris, Allison and Lydia and Aiden left first, followed by Derek and Scott. The sheriff left on call after that, leaving Stiles and Cora to hitch a ride with Danny and Ethan, leaving Isaac alone. In the distance he heard a howl, followed by more. They were filled with sorrow, making Isaac's heart ache no more or less.
He stared at the beautiful gravestone-the girl who was raised by wolves. A shovel stuck upright in the dirt beside it. He turned to the casket.
"You were really stupid this time," he hiccupped. He wiped his runny nose. "You should've just gone to Lydia's, but you were onto something. It could've waited. You'd still be alive if you waited, if you'd just been there. Goddamnit!"
He raked his claws across the top of the casket then hugged it. The wood shredded like tender muscle tissue.
"Melanie," he cried, his chest heaving painfully.
His chest ached with an unimaginable pinching and wrenching as did his stomach. He cranked the lever that lowered the casket, each maneuver harder than the last. He looked at the shovel beside the gravestone again and shook his head.
Mom. Camden. Dad. Now you, he thought.
He picked up the shovel and scooped up the fresh dirt and watched as it cascaded onto the casket. It was dark when he finished covering it. The coarse callouses from digging up so many other plots returned. He never thought much of the other graves he had to work, not until now. He knelt in front of the gravestone and ran his hand over its smooth and shiny top.
"I'll see you soon," he said in a whisper that just for her and no one else.
Scott sat in his room, his back against the door. He could hear his mom's heartbeat right on the other side. Her hand was pressed to the door tenderly. This was the fourth time she'd checked on him.
"Scott?" He didn't answer.
He had his knees hugged to his chest tightly, his chin propped on them. He che
"Hunny, I'm here, okay? I'm here," she said.
He sniffled, but didn't move from his position. Derek had called him several times already. He had tossed his phone somewhere across the room earlier to get away from it.
All he was focused on was the darach. It's all he cared about.
Scott couldn't comprehend anything, though. Nothing but flashbacks bombarded him and all he wanted to do was to forget. Just for a little while he didn't want to think about how Melanie was his friend. He wished he'd never known if that would take away the pain in his chest. It was a feeling far worse than grief and guilt combined. Was there a name for such an agonizing pain.
"She doesn't talk much," Danny said.
"Well, I'm Stiles, this is Scott," Stiles pointed out the rest: Lydia, Allison and Isaac.
"It's like she's one of them," Allison mumbled.
"She's not." Scott said. "She's been through a lot is all."
"Don't defend her Scott. She was raised by werewolves." Stiles said.
/\/\/\
"Nobody decides my fate, but me," she grounded out darkly. A deadly smirk spread across her face as she backed up toward the edge of the cliff.
Lydia and Allison sat in silence as the only source of light in Allison's bedroom were infomercials that played on the TV. It allowed them to stare at the dancing shadows on the ceiling while they laid Allison's bed.
"Party tonight," Lydia said.
"So?" Melanie said, scanning over the passage in her book.
"So…you going?"
"Nope," Melanie replied.
"Why not?"
Melanie scoffed.
"I don't feel like it," she replied.
/\/\/\
"And why is he sitting with them?"
"Because he just became Melanie's roommate," Scott answered.
"Oh," Lydia said, finally understanding. "I get it."
Stiles paced from wall to wall as he went over each piece of evidence. His eyes were puffy, exhausted and grief stricken. If he stopped he was afraid he'd break down again. Dad was still out on call. Cora returned to the loft, concerned that Derek would go out on some sort of rampage. It wouldn't be all that shocking if he did.
` "You didn't tell him?" Melanie inquired as they were beyond ear shot of the police. She was referring to her parents.
"You said not to," he said blankly.
"Hm," she said and nodded.
/\/\/\
"You don't know…" Stiles said.
"Know what?" Scott asked.
"She and Isaac started this make-out session in the hallway. Finstock broke them apart. It was heavy. Everybody could feel it. I mean actually feel it. It was paralyzing and…"
"That intense?"
"Yeah…"
He stopped in the center of the room, and stared around. His eyes widened. Could it be so easy, he thought. He shook his head in disbelief.
"You knew what you were doing. You knew you would be able to take him out too," Stiles mumbled, meaning Isaac. "I know who you are."
"Derek! You haven't said a word today. Isaac is up and walking around and is god know where, Stiles is on a mission that will probably land him right beside Melanie and Danny has lost his damn mind. Where are you!?" Cora cried out. "We lost our sister…"
Derek snapped out of his in-depth stare of nothingness.
"What can I say? I failed her. I was supposed to take care of her and she died," he replied hoarsely. "I'm supposed to take care of all of you…"
He shook his head, his brows furrowing in anger.
"She knew better!" he yelled.
"Knew better?" She said. "We all know the risk. We all know better, but we stand behind you!"
"And maybe you shouldn't!"
Cora flinched, but stood up straight, her lips pursing together, holding back her afflicted shutter of a breath.
"I will never leave your side."
Derek sighed heavily, the tension running a painful electrical current through his body making him give way. She put her hand on his arm and opened her mouth to speak, but her cell phone went off. It was Stiles.
"Answer it," Derek insisted, tiredly. He looked over at the map where the most recent X marked the latest victim. Melanie's house.
He could hear Stiles rambling on the other line. Stiles spoke fast, his words running together. He decoded Melanie's work. Derek stared at the college acceptance letters that sat up in the corner of the table.
"This is all getting messed up," Melanie mumbled. "Following dreams, getting kidnapped, all of these stories turning out not to be stories, high school…"
"Getting accepted to college." Derek added.
Melanie's face went blank. Ignoring college could only get her so far.
"What are you talking about?" Melanie said.
"I received a call from Stanford. They wanted to know when would be a good time to set up an interview."
Melanie laughed nervously. Her fingers twitched anxiously.
"I'm so happy for you and so proud," he whispered. "Laura would be proud too."
/\/\/\
"Come on, Derek. Say something, anything. I'm staying here, and I'm not going anywhere. Made a promise to a friend, well a few friends, that I wouldn't leave," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
But like that, she was gone.
Oh how difficult it was to gain something, but how easy it was to lose it.
