Author's note: set in 1x09.
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. No financial gain is made from this. This is for entertainment purposes only.
Thanks to littlemissy3982 for her super kind words; they motivated me to publish this chapter :)
'She, the love of his life, turned out to be a lie.'
'Her family has a vile métier.'
'Assassins.'
'Creatures in the dark'
'They killed her…'
'Werewolves.'
'His son…'
I closed the notebook with my translations of the past three days. Since Derek dropped me in my house to never contact me again I had been pouring my efforts in deciphering the leather book.
The beginnings were hard work, but after a while it was just changing symbols for letters.
This task also kept me busy so no other thoughts crawled back in my mind. No questions about my own father, no worrying for man or werewolf. I did not even keep tabs on the police search of Derek Hale.
The leather book was now my days and nights. I only stopped when the headache was too strong to concentrate properly. Then I would sleep. The bookstore was closed since it was still a mess after the 'break in'.
About the leather book? It was basically a diary, no more, no less.
A particular diary, for sure. Not only because of its antiquity, but also because of the story within.
Erhard Falke was little more than a stable's man for a lesser local noble in what today is modern Germany circa 1300. In addition to his duties with the horses, he also took care of the noble's birds of prey. He was also respected as an austringer (the one that flies hawks) and falconer himself, but his social situation prevented him from owning any animal himself. Still, it granted him his last name: Falke, from the Middle High German word 'valke', meaning 'falcon'.
He married young and had his first son at 20 years old. But soon he discovered that the family of his wife were not only the type of hunters to provide meat for the village, as they pretended to be. They were hunting behind his back the type of creatures that hunt a man's nightmares, the type of creatures that take babies in the night and persuade men to succumb to their primal instincts.
Witches, necromancers, vampire like creatures, etc.
He tried to avoid his family in law as much as he could, foreseeing danger, but to no avail, his wife was killed by what he calls 'a snake of the size of five grown men and with venom in its eyes'.
Widowed, he spent the rest of his life trying to find a way to not be helpless anymore, always avoiding falling into hunter's practice, since he blamed them for bringing the beast to his doorstep.
But the Erhard Falke that wrote those words was not the falconer, but his son, who shared the same name. It was a mysterious discovery – something quite overlooked in his tale – that made him rose to nobility and with him, the family would become prominent in Europe.
A little research revealed a huge change in his fate. In 1359, the family owned several castles, twenty years later, the list of properties only expanded miraculously.
Whatever artifact he acquired, changed him from a motherless farmer boy to an influential landowner.
Stripped from the heavy duties of working the land, he focused on acquiring new artifacts, antiquities and old relics from all around the world.
If Derek said the truth, Erhard Falke was my ancestor.
I threw the pen to the table, which bounced and fell to the floor, between a purple sock and a post-it with a phone number I did not recognize. Then, I threw myself into the bed, not bothering to remove the wrinkled jacket laying on it.
Soon after something started to buzz in the desk, and the phone screen flashed 'Stiles S.'. I wondered why I added the 'S.', since I doubted I would find another 'Stiles' in my life.
"Hello?"
"Imogene!" Stiles screamed. "Long time no see! Or… hear… Anyways, Derek and I we are going to trace a phone call that might lead us to the big bad wolf, you in?"
I chuckled at the lightness in his tone when asking me to go hunt a werewolf and probably risk all of our lives (again). But my thoughts were stuck in the 'Derek and I' part. "Um… I don't know…"
"She said not, I told you, don't waste more time," I heard Derek growl.
"I SAID I DON'T KNOW, NOT NO!" I screamed so he could hear me.
Stiles yelped. "Ouch, he has supernatural hearing, remember, no need to scream."
"What is this phone call thing?" I asked.
"It is a long story. Why don't you come by and I explain over a chocolate?"
"Are you trying to bribe me with chocolate?" I laughed.
"Is it working?"
"Mildly."
"Then why don't you come just to spite Derek, he said you wouldn't want to, so now you can prove him wrong."
"Are you doing this so you don't have to handle him alone?"
"Mildly?"
I laughed again. "I just don't know if I should get involved…"
"Seriously? You, the nosiest girl of Beacon Hills, does not want to get into someone else's business?" he joked.
I sighed. It was refreshing to speak again with Stiles and his never-ending wit. "Listen, I need to finish some stuff," I lied, "and if I have time I will pass by, ok?"
"As you wish," he said, disappointed.
"See you around."
"See ya'."
The line went dead and I felt the inner struggle start in my chest, with a feeling of oppression. Of course I wanted to be in the middle of the action again; of course I did not want to give up when the case was so close to being solved; of course I wanted to see Stiles – and even Derek – once again… But, I also was not sure anymore what my role was in the whole drama.
Would it affect somehow if I went there? I had still not figured out my father, had not had the courage to face him. I deceived myself that I would do it once I had all the data, but it was just a way to postpone it.
The phone rang again and I answered without checking the caller.
"I am still thinking about it, Stiles," I said.
"Sorry, Miss Wise?" a woman's voice asked.
"Yes? It is me."
"I am afraid your mother had a car accident. She is now in the hospital wing-"
I grabbed the wrinkled jacket. "I am on my way."
My mother was lying in a hospital bed, make up smeared, the long brilliant hair shaved in the right part of her scalp showing now a string of stitches, jewelry replaced by a neck brace. As sad an image as it was, I was happy. She was alive and had sustained only some minor injuries.
She was sleeping, and the painkillers would keep her that way for a while. She said she lost the control of the car. She crushed into another car, whose driver, luckily, had resulted uninjured.
After fifteen minutes by her bed, I went out to get a bottle of water from the vending machine. I bumped then into sheriff Stilinsky.
"Imogene, may I speak with you a second?" he asked, notepad in hand. I nodded. "Do you know if there is someone with a grudge against your mother?"
"Why are you asking me this?"
"Oh, they are just routine questions."
"I don't know… I don't think so… Well, she is a lawyer, I guess she is not the favorite person of everybody, but… No, I don't think anyone would want to hurt her."
"Did she speak about someone new lately?"
"Not that I know."
Sensing that I would not be of much help, he closed with a "thank you, Imogene."
"Sheriff," I said, "if there is a police investigation, is there anything special? Anything a daughter should know?"
"Well… Don't be alarmed, but we found that there might have been foul play in your mother's car."
"What do you mean?"
"Your mother lost control because of a technical failure, so we have to investigate every option," he explained. "Don't worry too much."
"I think I will go now…"
"Of course, take care."
"Thank you, sheriff. See you."
I told my father I would wait for him at the hospital, but I didn't. Instead, I went to my mother's office and tracked the path of her car with my bike, until I reached the spot of the accident. The car was not there anymore, it had been replaced by only shards of it and a bump in a streetlight. There was some drops of blood in the ground, but you could only notice them if you looked closely for them.
I didn't know what I was searching in a cleaned crime scene. Because yes, I was certain it was a crime against my mother. My poor mother, whose only ambition is to have time off work to get a French manicure. My poor mother, dragged into this because my father sold off a whole family. My poor mother, hurt because a single survivor is set on bringing revenge.
The honking of a car I was blocking made me realize I had been studying the crash for more than half an hour to no avail. There was nothing there conclusive.
So I did the only thing I could do.
I drove in my bike to Stiles Stilinsky's house.
It was exactly the welcome I had expected.
Stiles was glad I was there and he warmly led me to his room, where Derek sourly greeted me, making clear to everyone he was not extremely happy I was there, but he would let it pass. Stiles introduced him as his cousin Miguel, with a strong wink.
I did not mention my mother's accident.
I was also introduced to Danny, Stiles' friend, who was hacking a cell phone the moment I arrived. I was briefly explained of the situation and I congratulated Stiles on his skills, both as detective and as schemer.
Stiles and Danny at the computer, I drifted to the empty space on the back of the room and sat idly in the bed. On the other side Derek leafed through a book.
"You ok?" I asked him.
"Why wouldn't I?" he answered without lifting his eyes from the page.
"Well, last I saw you," I lowered my voice, "you were on the run."
"I still am."
"How do you manage?"
"I slept in the car for a few days."
I pursued my lips. "Okay…"
We were quiet for a brief moment. Then he asked, "Did you speak with your father?"
I looked up to him and his eyes were on me, so I diverted quickly my gaze to the ground and shook my head. He went back to the book.
"I will have it soon," Danny announced, and we all gathered around him.
Computer skills were lost on me, so I just observed the boys' focused looks.
"There," Danny said after some more typing. "The text was sent from a computer." One more click. "This one."
The screen changed and also the boys' faces, but I did not understand what they were seeing. The name on the screen meant nothing to me.
"Registered to that account name?" Derek asked.
"No, no, no," Stiles looked away from the screen and to Danny, "that can't be right."
"Melissa McCall…" I read aloud, "Is that Scott's-?"
"Yes," Stiles said, "It is."
We got rid of Danny. Well, Stiles did, since it was his friend. Then we mused and mused about what to make out of this new bit of information, but came completely empty-handed.
At some point in our arguing about how to proceed, Derek had enough and grabbed his leather jacket.
"Where are you going?" I asked him, standing up from the floor myself.
"I am going to check the hospital," he said, adjusting his collar.
"I am coming," Stiles said.
"Me too," I echoed.
"No," Derek answered.
"You need me to drive you. Or are you going to go walking out of the sheriff's house?" Stiles argued.
Derek growled, but conceded, "Fine".
I grabbed my jacket. "Not you," he said.
"Yes I am."
Then he let it go, probably because he knew even if he argued, I would end up showing up at the hospital on my own.
That was some hours ago and now we crammed in Stiles' Jeep. Similar to that one time Derek got shot, both boys sat at the front and I took the back. I answered my father's messages, telling him I was at home, since he had told me he would stay at the hospital.
"You were wrong," Derek suddenly said, and Stiles and I shared a confused look, "My uncle has nothing to do with this."
Then I knew he was speaking to me. But I did not know what to answer, so I let Stiles break the uncomfortable atmosphere, "Well, she has proved to not be very talented as a detective. She thought Scott was working for the Argents. Pffff…"
His phone rang. Scott's voice was muffled in the background.
"Yeah, I did, and it looks just like the drawing," Stiles said to the phone.
Derek took his wrist to take his turn to bark onto the mobile "Is there something on the back? There's got to be something. An inscription, an opening, something!"
Scott said something that neither Derek nor Stiles liked.
"I know," Stiles exclaimed, "Look, if you see my dad, can you tell him… tell him that I'll be there, I'll just be a little be late, okay?... Alright, thanks." He hung up, upset.
"You are not gonna make it," Derek bluntly put it.
"I know."
"And you didn't tell him about his mom neither."
"Not until we find out the truth."
"By the way, on more thing…"
"Yeah?" Derek suddenly took Stiles' head and slammed it against the steering wheel. "Oh God! What the hell?!"
"What the-?!" I screamed in surprise.
"You know what that was for!" Derek shouted. "Go. Go!"
Stiles obeyed and left the car.
I waited some seconds before speaking, in a little voice, "What was that for?"
He crossed his arms, "Don't ask."
"Something happened while in his house?"
" .ask."
"Okaaay…" I sighed. "I am sorry about your uncle."
"Alright," he said, toneless.
Silent enough to put two and two together, I asked, "Does it have anything to do with Stiles' gay friend?"
He turned this time to point a finger at me. "Shut up."
I snickered. "Admit it, my deduction skills are not that bad."
"Just for the unimportant."
"I'll take it as a compliment."
"Suit yourself."
The mobile rang and he took it. Stiles.
"How?" he said.
"Put it on the speaker," I hissed and he did.
"Yeah, I said I can't find her," Stiles' voice resonated in the old car.
"Look, ask for Jennifer. She has been looking after my uncle," Derek ordered.
"Yeah, well, he's not here neither," Stiles said.
"What?" Derek exclaimed.
"He is not here, he is gone, Derek," Stiles informed us.
"That can't be," I whispered.
But Derek realized something, because he started shouting, "Stiles, get out of there right now! It's him! He is the Alpha! Get out!"
I did not have time to say 'I told you so', because Derek was leaping out of the car and I was following behind. He was way faster and by the time I reached the corridor where Stiles was, the nurse was already on the floor. I almost tripped over her.
"That's not nice," a velvety voice said, the one belonging to Peter Hale, up and about. "She is my nurse."
"She is a psychotic bitch helping you kill people," Derek said, "Get out of the way."
"Oh damn," Stiles crouched down.
"You think I killed Laura on purpose?" Peter advanced on us and I took some steps back instinctively. "One of my own family?"
Derek lunged, teeth bared and eyes glowing blue, but it took only a push from Peter to send him flying against the wall. I crouched and offered my hand to Stiles, who was in the middle.
"Stiles!" I called him. He almost crawled into the unconscious nurse before he found me and we started running. But as I looked back, Derek was not following us. Instead, he was being dragged by the neck by the Alpha.
I turned in my heels to run after them, but Stiles took my wrist. "There is nothing we can do!" I can… maybe, I thought. "We are just humans. He would kill us!"
We crouched again and crawled across the cold corridor floor, none of us especially graceful. We saw Derek bleed as he was being beaten and thrown from wall to wall, until he went through a crystal glass.
We left.
We left Derek Hale to his own luck.
