(A/N): Thank you again for the favorites/follows and reviews. This chapter will be a little different and hop from Laura's point of view to Bea's. A point of view change will be signified by "Bea's POV" or "Laura's POV". Small reminder that Bea has no idea about werewolves up to this point.
Also, I took some creative liberty and filled in some lore about the Hale family/pack dynamics! Some of this isn't canon, it is just me trying to put some meat on the bare bones we were given as explanation of how the Hale pack worked back when Talia was alive and thriving.
As a final note, Derek is still very young here! I've chosen to start him off with a slightly more naive/innocent personality than we see in the show. Because he's a child here. That will change over time, and hopefully as life happens I will mold him into the canon!Derek we know!
Thank you for reading, please leave a review!
Laura's POV
She could still remember the pain she experienced the first time she transformed under the full moon. All her life, she knew what it meant to be a member of the Hale family. In theory, she knew what her mom was, what Uncle Peter was.
But it never truly sunk in until she felt it firsthand herself. Puberty as a young girl is bad enough—adding on a heaping spoonful of werewolf genes certainly didn't help matters. Or in Laura's case, some days it felt more like she'd gotten the the whole bag of werewolf genes.
And even by werewolf standards, the Hale family was a rare breed. They were not made werewolves, they were born werewolves. That in itself set their pack apart from the majority. Not many natural-born werewolf families remained alive. Most had been culled by the various hunters throughout the world, like the Argents.
The Hales, though born werewolves, chose to live amongst humans. They blended into human society just like made-werewolves. Voluntarily—on purpose. It was a lifestyle that set them apart, that made them, in some ways, simultaneously legendary amongst their peers, and outcast. They were not the first to try.
Other families had tried before them, but the others were not as concerned with coexistence. They were more interested in infiltrating the highest tier of white-collar society—taking not just a seat at the table, but the throne.
She might be mixing metaphors there, but the point is, the other families before them failed. Their greed and ambition meant that they lost the battle before they even started. Many of them continue to live in seclusion to this day. Truthfully, the last time a werewolf family had made a genuine run at living alongside humans was circa 1893 in the White City—better known as Chicago—at the Great World Fair.
After all, they'd thought, what better place to induct themselves into human society than there? Where all the world's most renowned, powerful syndicates ventured to make their mark and celebrate the founding of a New World—to applaud Christopher Columbus and the other 'great forefathers' of their time. The ones who made it all possible.
Well, after all, this country was founded on outsiders invading and occupying pre-existing communities and claiming it was their right to do so all along. Why should the werewolves be any different? It was to be survival of the fittest. The beginning of their new great nation.
In the end, they underestimated just how cutthroat the humans were. How extensive their influence truly was, how impenetrable they had built the walls of their station in society—not just nationally—but globally.
The truth was the werewolves—while indomitably more powerful—were too few.
It would never have worked. At least, not when approaching it from that angle. Instead, they would need to scale their ambitions way down, work in terms of micro rather than macro. Become a big fish in a small pond.
That's what Talia did. And it worked. To hear the elders of the pack explain it, it wasn't even really that hard. The others before them had been fools, they said, arrogant supplicants.
Laura thought the truth of the matter likely wasn't so black and white. She couldn't begin to guess what the truth really was, not even now, after so many years of being groomed as the heir to Talia's throne. She suspected that even Talia herself wouldn't be able to say.
"Laura, we need to talk."
Talia stood at the counter in the kitchen that morning with a steaming mug of tea. She took hers plain, no milk or sugar—lemon only. Laura tried it once and she wasn't impressed. She preferred coffee.
She preferred it, but that didn't mean she could have it.
The taste of the gritty vitamin smoothie stuck to her teeth in a way that made her afraid it would leave a permanent stain. She stifled a sigh by pressing her lips together.
Talia took her silence as an invitation to continue. Nearby, Peter did a poor job of pretending not to eavesdrop as he studied one of those old books he obsessed over. "The Council called a meeting early this morning."
The Council was a tightknit group of elders within the Hale pack. They were the oldest and most experienced, the ones who ultimately steered the pack through the tumultuous waters of coexisting in secret with human society. Actually, portions of the Hale pack thought the Council was nothing more than rumor.
It was kept secret—Talia's most trusted advisors. It was a good idea. They were her eyes and ears, her shadows. She didn't get to the point of being Alpha without having an extensive support network, and the Council was vital to that role.
It was a great honor to even know of the Council's existence.
Laura sat up straighter and tried not to whine. "What? Why didn't you wake me?"
"You needed to rest—"
"Mom, come on!" Laura pushed the smoothie away and clenched her fists on the tabletop. "How am I ever going to convince them that I'm ready if I can't even be present at the meetings?"
"Ultimately, you are my daughter. That comes first. Your health comes first. Always. You are still young."
Laura sighed tightly and tangled her hands in her hair. Nothing she could say would matter anyway, she already missed the meeting and Talia didn't seem regretful to have excluded her in the least.
"Well, what did I miss? Can you at least fill me in?"
Talia studied her for another moment longer, then turned away to look out the window at the bright morning sky. "The primary topic of discussion… was you. "
Laura could feel the smoothie settling heavy in her stomach, could feel it inching back up the back of her throat. She took slow, deliberate breaths and clenched her cup tighter. "…Me. You mean they took advantage of my absence and tried to convince you to choose Derek instead. Again."
"Of course they did," Peter quickly inserted, a sneer on his lips. "Their respect of Talia is the exception to the rule. They agree to follow her because she has proven time and time again that there is no one better. Female alphas in the Hale pack have been—historically speaking—a non sequitur."
"Never thought I would willingly admit this, but I agree with Uncle Peter," Laura said through gritted teeth.
The man himself looked unsurprised. He raised his eyebrows at her. "I should hope so," he said. "This directly effects your future role in the Council. Not to mention your future as Alpha."
"They accused me of trying to exclude Derek before we even know of his potential," Talia explained.
"He's only eleven!" Laura gaped. "What are they even saying?"
"They're saying," Peter supplied, "that Talia is angling to guarantee another female Alpha for political reasons. Or for favoritism. Either way."
"But that's not fair!" Laura exclaimed. "I'm the first born! The oldest—that's why—"
"That is not my only reason," Talia disagreed. "You have the appropriate determination. Being Alpha and holding that position takes a special brand of resolve. You show drive in ways that Derek does not, even at his age—you had more ambition and desire to play a larger role in the Council as early as age seven. He has never mentioned it to me before, not even in passing. This is about what my children want—and what they have demonstrated to me."
Laura relaxed a bit and settled into her seat to contemplate the issue at hand. "They all… said that? That I shouldn't be Alpha?"
"It was more about giving Derek a chance, I believe."
Which didn't make sense, because he didn't want it. Some days it was like he barely even realized they were werewolves.
Laura felt some bitter resentment well up inside her that she hadn't felt towards her brother before. She had to fight tooth and nail to even be allowed an appearance at a Council meeting, and now they were already talking about just bringing him on board? Why? Why now?
"I don't know," Peter said. "I think it was more than that. They brought up… how difficult it has been for you to transform."
"I—" Laura stammered before forcing herself to take a breath and be firm. "I am doing my best. Damn it!"
Talia studied her daughter for a long moment. Peter studied her like he was trying to translate one of those ancient texts he obsessed over, his eyes narrowed. Talia eventually glanced down at the mug between her hands.
"Tonight, you will have to face the full moon," her mom quietly acknowledged. "You have been struggling with your transformations. Have you not?"
Laura gulped and resisted the urge to hang her head. "Not for lack of trying," she couldn't help but defend. "It's not easy, you know! I'm still new at this!"
"You know what the council would say about that," Peter reminded her. "What they have said about that."
Laura scowled. "I'm trying, okay? I don't know what more I can do but try!"
"They shouldn't throw my achievements in her face," Talia sighed. "I might have mastered the transformations earlier than her, but I also started earlier than she did."
Peter patted his chin thoughtfully. "What is it that Julian calls her? Oh yes—a late bloomer."
Laura scowled darkly. "He's such a creep."
"He's on thin ice, as far as I'm concerned," Talia agreed. "But he's not wrong. You're a junior in high school, and yet you've only been through six months of transformations—"
"Which is nowhere near long enough to have mastered my control!" Laura snapped. "I know, okay? I get it!" She drew in another angry breath. "You don't think I didn't try to transform sooner? Every month on the full moon, I went through excruciating pain. Yet I never once transformed. You of all people know how hard I tried—I did everything right! None of it made a difference!"
"Eventually, she went to Deaton," Peter acknowledged. "We needed Council approval for that, remember?"
Laura stood from her seat; her fist clenched tightly as she pointed down at the half-drained smoothie. "I went onto a strict diet that I still haven't strayed from—I intensified my training regimen. I even did a few rituals with Peter! That at least got me to start my period," she seethed, her face burning hotly. "And even that didn't matter! Nothing we did mattered. Not until we finally went to a human doctor!"
"Yes," Talia agreed, looking troubled. "We told them that you needed help regulating your period. Which was true."
"Even if that wasn't really what it was about," Laura acknowledged. "But we can't exactly tell them the truth, can we? The hormone pills they prescribed me have helped, anyway. It was that, or go on birth control—"
"Maybe in a few years," Peter helpfully interjected, surprisingly at ease with the topic. "But not yet."
"Try to understand," Talia said, calm in the face of her daughter's notorious temper. "I never said I don't sympathize, that I can't understand your struggles. I never said I agreed with the council—after all, I'm the one who has the final say, don't I?"
Laura deflated a bit and she nodded. "And they know it too."
"Exactly. The hormone pills worked," Talia acknowledged. "I'm not the biggest fan of them, I'll admit. I wonder if the side effects are worth it. Your moods have been…"
"Unpredictable?" Peter offered.
"Yeah, well, without them, for all we know I might still not have transformed successfully," Laura said through gritted teeth. "Do you remember what the doctor told me?"
"Yes," Talia said, her voice passionate. "I understand."
"I might never be able to have children because of this," Laura explained, undeterred. She put on a deeper imitation of the doctor's voice as she continued. "'Unfortunately, we can't know what the long-term complications will be.' That's what he said. I'm sixteen, and already I'm facing the fact that—I might not be able to ever have my own children! Do you even know what that feels like? And now this?"
"I'm still researching," Peter finally admitted, sounding uncharacteristically somber. "I found some old druid texts, I…"
"It's under control," Talia assured him. "For now, we have our solution."
At what cost? Laura wanted to say, but the words got stuck in her throat. She gritted her teeth and sat back down to clench the smoothie in her hands. "I can't stand it when they insinuate that I'm not trying hard enough. That it's grounds to have me removed from the Council."
"I know how much you want to be part of it. Truthfully, I might not have stopped them from removing you—it wouldn't matter anyway. You don't need to be on the Council to become the next Alpha. But it's what you want, so you have my support."
"It still means that you have a long road ahead of you," Peter acknowledged. "If you really want this—if you really want to be Alpha, you'll have to prove yourself to them. And they'll make it extraordinarily harder than it needs to be. You can count on that."
"I don't need their permission! Mom just said that."
"Technically, true," Peter acknowledged. "But can you imagine how difficult they will make it? They would fight you at every turn. Every decision you made—whether you choose to take an action or even not to act on something at all. It wouldn't matter. They would find a way to criticize your every move."
"They would find someone to challenge you, at the very least," Talia said. "Like they have with me."
"Yeah, well, that's what I'm training for. Isn't it? To be ready for the challenges. Whatever they are."
"We just need to work harder," Peter resolved. "There is always a solution."
"Even if it's to admit defeat," Talia said. "That is a solution as well." She raised her hand to stave off Laura's protests before they began. "Not that I'm suggesting you admit defeat in this situation! I just don't want you to take your uncle's words to heart. It's important to pick your battles."
Peter had already turned away from the conversation by then, flipping through the pages of his book. Laura trusted her mom, but sometimes—especially lately—she found herself agreeing with Peter's perspective more and more.
Accepting defeat was not something she felt willing to do.
Bea's POV
When the substitute teacher came in, it was not what either of them had expected in the least. A tall girl with short black hair and precise, blunt bangs walked in.
She wore a blue and grey plaid skirt, starch-white tights, boots that shone with the number of buckles on it and a black sweater with white lacy cuffs. Tying the whole ensemble together was a horrible, white broach situated at her throat, depicting some amalgamation of school-girl-meets-old-woman-meets-Elvira.
Beside her, Derek had let his Uno cards drop to the desk as he tracked her gliding movements a across the room with wide eyes. The girl hadn't so much as glanced their way. She hadn't even said a word yet. She slipped into the teacher's chair without a sound, settling behind the desk. Bea gulped.
"Names."
It took a moment for it to register that the word had come from her dark, painted lips.
Bea blinked and met Derek's bewildered gaze from the corner of her eyes. "Uh—what?" Derek finally responded, taking initiative to engage with the strange teen when it became clear that Bea wouldn't.
Still, the girl didn't look up. "What is your name, child? Or do you not have one?"
Derek spluttered. "Y-Yes! I have a name—what? Who doesn't have a name?"
The corner of her mouth curled as though he had told a joke. "Hah, yes. Who, indeed? How amusing."
Bea blinked again.
"So?" The girl pressed. "If you cannot tell me a name, I will simply mark that there were no students available for attendance." It sounded like she could not care one iota whether that was the case or not.
"Wait—" Derek frowned. "Wouldn't we get in trouble?"
"Bea—" blurted Bea. "Stilinski. And Derek Hale."
"Who is whom?"
Bea blinked again. Derek looked entirely lost. Their playing cards lay scattered across their desks, abandoned. After a stretch of silence, the girl finally turned her gaze on them. Bea felt goosebumps break out across her skin.
"Are you Derek?" She asked to Bea. "Or are you Bea?"
"I—" Bea broke off, puzzled. "I am Bea."
"I am Hannah. But, in this case, it might be more appropriate for you to call me Mrs. Knox."
This time, it was Derek to blurt. "You're married?"
Mrs. Knox's well-groomed eyebrow raised. "Yes. And you?"
A laugh of surprise escaped Bea before she realized it was happening. Derek's face scrunched and he waved his hands vehemently as he said, "Gross! No way! Not ever!"
"Such bold declarations from someone so young," the woman mused. She looked like she wanted to say something else, like it was on the tip of her tongue, but ultimately swallowed whatever it was and instead said, "I suppose there is some merit to solitude, though I find strength in facing life's challenges knowing I'm not alone."
Bea was confused about why not being married equated to facing life alone. Maybe this was one of those 'you'll get it when you're older' things. Another long silence stretched. Finally, Derek broke, unable to stand it. "How did you get here?!"
For the first time, Mrs. Knox looked perplexed. "I drove my car, and then I walked."
Derek groaned in frustration. "No, I mean—Peter says that vampires have to be invited inside before they can enter a room!"
Bea swatted Derek's arm as the woman full on grinned at that. "Peter?" Mrs. Knox practically purred. "Who is Peter?"
Derek pointed rudely at her and leapt to his feet to shout properly at her. "I'm not telling you, crazy bat lady! You'll track him down and try to give him the bite!"
She held up a hand as though to silence him. "Be still, boy."
"You're so weird!" He carried on.
"Derek," Bea choked out, her face burning hotly. "You can't just call people crazy! Or vampires!"
"Why not?!" He waved an arm. "She hasn't denied it, has she!?"
Probably because she's getting a kick out of this whole situation, Bea thought. "She's just doing her job!"
"What job?!"
"She's obviously our substitute teacher!" Bea shouted.
Derek's mouth fell open. "Ohhhh." He paused as he studied Mrs. Knox closer, his skepticism still easily readable on his face. "Really?"
Mrs. Knox let her head tip back and looked skyward, a sigh escaping through her nose. "I need college credits," she suddenly explained. "I am studying to get my Forensic Biology degree at the university in San Francisco. This is… an extracurricular credit."
"So you're pretty smart," Bea deduced.
"Hmph." Derek crossed his arms like he had something to add but wisely kept it to himself.
Mrs. Knox looked away from him and inclined her head. "I have ambitions. College is part of what I must to do to achieve those goals."
"Guess that makes sense," Derek grumbled, tipping his chair back once again. "Hey, we were told that we could watch movies. You know anything about that?"
Mrs. Knox shook her head and gracefully rose from her seat. "I will investigate."
With that, she swept out of the room, and Bea jumped at a loud CLANK! as Derek let his chair fall to the ground in his haste to stand. His hand shot out to grab her wrist and he pulled her towards the door. "Come on, hurry!"
He wasn't exactly careful as he dragged her through the maze of desks, and their cards fluttered loudly to the ground behind them. "Wha—Derek!" Bea stammered. She barely had time to dodge a chair that one of their classmates had left pushed out from their desk, only to ram her shin straight into the leg of a different desk instead.
Whenever she was truly in pain, Bea never made a noise or cried out because it was like her breath was forcefully sucked from her lungs. She scrunched her nose up and reached down to rub at the sharp, but quickly dulling pain as Derek continued to drag her across the room.
When he let her go she almost fell back on the ground without his arm there to support her. He didn't really pay attention to her struggles as he leaned to poke his head out of the door frame, his head tilting to each side as he peered around. Bea opened her mouth but Derek's hand flashed back and flapped frantically at her. "Shhhhh!" He hissed.
Her mouth snapped shut and she reared back with wide eyes. Derek had never shushed her before. Had never dragged her across a room so brutally, either.
Annoyed and fed up and in pain, she was seriously considering just stomping back over to their desks and ignoring him for the rest of the afternoon, but her conscience nagged her that he had chosen to stay behind from the field trip just for her today and she owed him. Big time. So she kept her mouth shut and waited, her patience wearing thinner by the second.
Derek finally turned back around, and the expression on his face doused the flames of her temper with cold water. Unconsciously, she felt herself straighten as he took her by the arms and fixed an uncharacteristically sober expression on her.
"Bea," He said, his childishly insolent tone he'd been using on the substitute teacher long gone and graver than she'd ever heard from him before. "We have to leave. Now."
Bea shook her head in confusion. He said it with all the authority of an adult, but what he suggested seemed so… bad. Skipping school? It was something that angsty teens in high school did in the movies—not a pair of fourth graders.
Voices erupted down the hall as a door was pushed open. Bea felt her eyes widen and she cast another look up at the clock hanging over the door. It was a few hours after lunch.
But she took too long to voice an opinion one way or the other, and Derek wasn't willing to wait. He grabbed her wrist again and pulled her forward, then shoved her down the hall. Before she knew what was happening, he had wrapped an arm around her shoulders and fallen into step with a steady stream of students.
These students were slightly taller than they were. She had never met them before. Their voices washed over them as they went, like Derek and Bea were leaves caught in a group of fish swimming upstream a river.
"I wonder if she'll let us use the good soccer balls—"
"—so you and I can be on their team, okay? I already talked it over with Samone this morning, and I told her how you like-like him—"
"You what?! Christina! How could you?!"
"Don't worry, Samone's totally cool!"
"I trusted—"
Bea tore her attention away from the mini-dramas unfolding around them and cast her gaze across the stream of fifth graders around them, steadily making their way towards the side-exit that led on a dirt trail towards the soccer fields outside.
Where was their teacher?
Derek suddenly tugged on Bea's arm, and in an impressive and confusing move, almost seemed to perfectly displace themselves with a different pair of students as a much taller adult passed them by.
"Okay, guys! Let's try to slow down, at least until we're outside. I don't care if you run on the trails once we get outside, but inside these halls, we walk. You know all know this, I shouldn't have to remind you every time we step foot out of the classroom!"
"Mrs. Calvin!" one of the fifth-graders shouted. "What's with all these empty classrooms?"
"Fourth grade went on their field trip to that museum today," explained a different fifth grader, and Mrs. Calvin sped up to join the students in their discussion, assuring them that yes, they would also be taking a field trip soon, didn't he take his permission slip home to be signed yet? but no, not to the museum.
Derek leaned over to whisper in her ear. "When we get outside, follow my lead."
As if she hasn't been following his lead every step of the way since the day they met. And really, she was beginning to question her judgment, given that he had just launched an escape mission like they were a pair of prisoners sneaking out of jail.
"Ready?" He asked as they stepped through the doors and into the fresh afternoon air.
She wasn't, but some part of Bea was always afraid that one of these times Derek wouldn't stick around long enough to wait for her to catch up, and she really wasn't ready to risk getting left behind.
Laura's POV
She stepped back to examine the prepared ritual before them. Peter had marked the wooden floor up with chalk, symbols and writings scribbled out in some obscure language she couldn't even begin to decipher.
"I don't see how the candles will help." She stared at the varying black and purple candles stationed around the points of the design he'd sketched on the floor. "It's the moon that triggers the transformation. What do candles have to do with it?"
Peter ignored her. He was looking carefully between the guide of text he had and comparing it with the drawings he had copied down, making adjustments so subtle she couldn't tell what he was doing.
"I mean, mirrors, I could see," she continued, turning to cross her arms and peer up at the skylights above them. "Maybe reflecting moonlight beams around or—I don't know, some other mystical shit. Candles? Really? What is this, Practical Magic?"
"Language," was all Peter said, and absently at that—like he was barely listening.
She drew in a long, deep breath and let out a dramatic sigh. "This is so boring."
"Shouldn't you be meditating?" Peter advised, turning to glance at her over his shoulder. "We need to have you prepared for tonight. Go in the house and meditate. I'll be along shortly. Shouldn't be longer than twenty minutes."
"Ugh," she grumbled, but headed towards the door anyway. "Whatever!"
Bea's POV
It shouldn't have been so easy. It really, really shouldn't have. The fact that two students can just waltz out of school like that and trek their way across town—alone—seemed almost absurd to say.
But Derek had a knack for making it seem like wherever he went was exactly where he was supposed to be. He also preternaturally skillful at evading anything that could have been truly troublesome for them.
Bea had no idea how he did it, but any time an adult was just around the corner, or a certain path wasn't viable because there was a troupe of faculty or staff loitering, waiting to catch them as they darted from cover to cover on their Great Escape™, Derek just knew.
He would signal her to wait or yank her along, pushing her to go faster, quieter, whatever it took to get them through the next leg of the plan safely. Some small part of herself was quietly thrilled, like instead of bad guys escaping prison, they were police officers on a task force dashing through criminal territory.
She knew for a fact that Stiles would love this. She wondered if her dad did this sort of thing every day, if this was how he always felt at work. They'd fall into a rhythm and she'd finally get into the swing of things and then Derek would somehow know that someone was coming and they'd switch gears so fast, she almost couldn't keep up.
But Derek was good. Too good. It honestly seemed like this was not the first time he had done something like this.
He knew the exact route they should take. Led them around the corner of the building, along what might have been a trail used by janitors or maintenance workers, and out to skirt the edge of a parking lot at the rear end of the school. And then into the woods.
Which might have been scary, except Derek made it exciting. He wasn't scared of the woods at all. In fact, if anything, he seemed just as at ease in them as he did at his house or anywhere else.
Had she ever seen him unsure of himself before, she wondered? She couldn't remember.
Even now, he stood brazen, unashamed of what they had done, standing with his chin up defiantly. Peter glared at his nephew, entirely ignoring Bea's presence like she wasn't there at all.
"Derek. What are you doing home?"
Peter didn't raise his voice. Didn't even really have much of an inflection, beyond curiosity and maybe dread, like he was more afraid of what would happen to him for being the one to find the children wandering through the woods of the Hale property as they made their way to Derek's house.
Somehow, it made the whole ordeal feel less… bad? Less like they broke the rules? It didn't seem right, but if Peter wasn't immediately losing his mind over it—maybe it wasn't that bad….? Oh, who was she kidding, her dad would skin her alive as soon as he heard about it. Why had she let Derek drag her into this again?
"—was a real life vampire!" Derek was explaining, his tone urgent and meaningful as he looked up at Peter with wide eyes. "We're lucky we got out of there in one piece! Seriously! What the heck was she doing at our school, Peter?!"
Peter gave a slow blink as he processed. Then he lifted his hand and sighed deeply as he ran it over his face, muttering under his breath.
Meanwhile, Bea contemplated whether her dad might actually try to spank her for the first time in her life. Wondered if that was a line he would cross for circumstances such as this.
"Peter! Did you hear me?!" Derek pressed. "This isn't a game! I'm being serious, she—"
Peter lifted a hand and Derek immediately quieted. "Listen to me. What you two did was reckless."
Derek gaped. "But—"
"It doesn't matter," Peter cut him off. "I don't care what the circumstances are. I know you were doing what you thought was right, but Derek, the first thing you do when you think you're in danger is you call for help."
Bea felt supremely uncomfortable, standing like a bump on a log while Derek was openly scolded in front of her. She was also confused about how Peter didn't immediately explain to them that there was no such thing as vampires. If she said the same thing to her dad, he'd pop a vein. No doubt.
Yet, there Peter was, calmly explaining to Derek the correct way to go about handling himself in an uncertain but conceivably unsafe situation.
"There wasn't time to call—"
Peter lifted his hand again and fixed a meaningful look on Derek's face. "Listen to me. Are you listening? Good. Something like this ever happens again—ever—you call as loud as you can for help. You call. Understand?"
Derek leaned back on his heels. "Ohhhh," he said, drawing the word out like he did when Bea helped him through a particularly tricky math equation. She looked at him in befuddlement but Derek suddenly wouldn't meet her gaze, or Peter's gaze either, for that matter. "But I… I'm not… very loud, yet."
Bea snorted, then blinked when neither of them paid attention to her beyond Derek shooting her an uncomfortable glance.
"That doesn't matter," Peter said with a shake of his head. "Call anyway."
Bea did laugh now, unable to filter herself. Maybe it was the shock. "It's not like we have cellphones. What's he supposed to do, step outside and shout for you?"
"Hah!" Derek forced out an extremely unconvincing laugh. "Maybe it'll be better if I… cup my hands like this." He reached up and cupped his hands around his mouth, imitating calling out Peter's name.
Bea wasn't really laughing anymore, because it wasn't that funny to begin with and Peter looked fed up with both of them. Peter raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that so? He doesn't?"
She didn't understand what he meant, but then he motioned to Derek, who shifted on his feet.
"Ahahaha…" Derek weakly laughed, rubbing his neck. "Yeah, about that…"
Peter's face grew hard. "Seriously? What happened to it?"
"It might have gotten wet when a thing in my lunchbox spilled!"
"Wait, wait, wait! Stop! You had a cellphone at school this whole time?!" Bea exclaimed. Suddenly Peter's admonitions to call for help made some sense. "Derek! Seriously?!"
"It doesn't work! That stupid thing is huge! It takes up so much room I can barely fit a juice box with it—"
"Well that's fantastic," Peter drawled in a tone that suggested it was anything but. "Why don't you and your friend come with me back to the house so you can explain to Talia all about how you ruined your very expensive cellphone and you skipped school?"
"She's not mad, is she?" Derek asked him, forcing a fake, tight smile on his face. "Peter?"
"And you can give your friend a piggyback, for good measure," Peter informed him with a responding smile that looked a smidgen evil. "Since she's injured and in shock."
"Injured?"
Bea tried not to gape at them. "Uhhh—no, I'm okay—"
"Her leg." Peter pointed down to Bea's shin, which had begun to turn a deep pink and purple from when it was rammed into a desk what felt like hours ago, now.
Derek wilted at the sight. "Jeez, Bea, I'm sorry."
"Ah… Well, it's nothing," she shrugged. "I hardly even feel it anymore."
"Yeah, okay," Peter humored. He motioned to them impatiently. "Derek."
Derek went around in front of Bea and then crouched down. "Climb on."
She sighed. "This really isn't needed. I can walk fine. We just hiked through the woods!"
"Come on, trust me! It'll be fun!" Derek insisted. "I'm super-fast!"
Gathering that from the expression on Peter's face, if she didn't climb on quickly he might just drag her up to the house himself, she caved and climbed on without another word.
Bea hadn't really had much of a chance to meet Talia Hale more than once before. From what she gathered, the woman was extremely busy.
It was also clear to her that everyone in their family adored her. Even Peter was cordial around her, which for him was downright pleasant.
"Bea," began Talia as Derek carried Bea into the house on his back. Peter continued further past them, keeping close to the edge of the room as he always did. Talia crossed to help her down from Derek's back. "How does it feel if you put weight on it?"
Just like Peter, Talia seemed to immediately sense that Bea was injured without even speaking a word to her or seeing her walk. Maybe Bea was unknowingly making it out to be worse than it really was, or maybe the bruise just stood out more as the first thing that strangers noticed when they saw her.
"It's fine," Bea assured, unused to having to convince so many people that she was okay. "Really."
Talia gave her a smile and crouched down to place a gentle hand against her leg, inspecting the skin closely. "You're tough." Bea subconsciously straightened her posture and Talia's smile warmed. "Let's get you off your feet. Come, sit for a spell."
Talia stood up and placed a hand at Bea's shoulder to guide her over to stool at the island in the center of their extravagant kitchen. "Now then," she said once Bea was settled, and turned to her son. "Derek."