Author's note: set in 1x010.
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. No financial gain is made from this. This is for entertainment purposes only.
I did not know how I got home. I vaguely remember parting from Stiles. Did I get here in his Jeep? Did I walk? The only images in my mind were those of Derek being mauled. Was he dead? It was a nagging question.
And I felt fear. And at the same time, I felt safe, because I was at home, a home where no werewolf could go in.
And through this vague state of mind, I overhead a voice, in the living room. My father. My father was home. My mother was in a hospital bed.
But the voice was too loud – and too angry – for me to mute it.
"This is not what we agreed!" My father screamed at his phone. "You promised nobody would get hurt!... I do not care if you are in a freaking lacrosse game! And I do not care about your daughter!... My wife is in a hospital bed! My daughter is missing!... Don't you dare hung up on me! Don't you dare, Chris Argent!"
But he did, and the next I heard was muffled sobbing.
I stopped at the arc that opened to the living room. My father, face covered, cried in a couch. "Father?" He raised his head and I could see in his red eyes, he had been shedding tears for awhile. "What have you done?"
"Imogene," he whimpered and ran to hug me. It was a tight embrace, but fragile all the same.
"What happens, dad?" I asked again, taking a step back to look into his eyes. "What have you done?"
"Nothing," he whispered.
"What were you talking about with Chris Argent, father?"
"Nothing," he shrugged.
"Does he have something to do with mom being in a hospital?" No answer. "Father, tell me what is going on."
He sank back into the couch. "Let it go, Imogene."
"No, I won't" I exclaimed. "I want you to tell me what is going on. Now!"
"I cannot."
"Yes, you can!"
"It's for your own good, Imogene," he said, tense. Crying ceased and we were raising voices.
"Father, we are far past the point where you can protect me. I know things, father." His eyes bulged. "I know what you did…"
"What?"
"I know that you helped the Argents… I know that you sold the Hales to them."
His hands trembled and he clasped them together. His lower lip moved at the same tune. He had reached his limit. It hurt to see my father like this. But at the same time, I was very angry.
"Father?"
"I did what I had to do, Imogene. You don't understand."
"No, I don't. I don't understand how you could let a family be banished. I do not understand how you could let innocent people die!"
"It was them or us!" He sighted gravely and shook his head. "It was their family or ours… Chris Argent… He came one day, showed me what they were… Monsters!... He told me he could protect me, protect my family…" He slammed his fist against the couch's armrest. "I had to do something! You were only fifteen… You were attending a school filled with beasts!... Then it happened, the fire… And I felt relieved. I felt relieved, Imogene. No more dangers, no more Argents neither… Normal life in a quiet village. But then they returned…"
He took an empty glass on the coffee table and refilled it with whisky. It was one of the few times I had seen my father drink.
"They returned to Beacon Hills, the Argents. And Chris Argent asked me to help him. He wanted a book. A real family heirloom. But when I denied it to him, he threatened me. 'You need my protection, Wise', he said. I was sick of all this. I told him with the Hales gone, I didn't need his protection anymore… Then he told me, 'It's not the Hales you need protection from, but from us'. He told me he would hurt my family. I had no choice…" The liquor was gone in a last sip. "I had no choice…"
I ran a hand through my hair. All of this… it didn't make sense, somehow.
"But… but you could have faced them. Both of them! You are part of something powerful, they should have obeyed. You could have threatened them! Why succumb so easily?"
"I am nothing," he whispered.
"No! No. You had a duty to bring balance to this bloodshed. It was you who should have stopped it even before it started. But instead you decided to let it happen!"
"He didn't," a strong voice of a woman called from the arc. My mother stayed in the place I had occupied before. She looked completely different. Her black hair was cropped in a boyish style that fit her features perfectly. She looked imposing, controlled. She took the neck brace off with a hand. "I did."
"Mother?" I mumbled.
My father started crying again. "Diana."
"Diana…" I tried to remember something. The last overlook piece of information. "Diana…"
"Diana Hawker," she said. "That's my maiden name."
"You are…" I muttered.
"I am the real descendant of Erhard Falke."
"But dad-"
"Your father has always been ignorant as to what my family name meant. About what we represent. About our duty. He just acted out of lack of knowledge; he acted as any human would act. He tried to defend his family."
My eyes open wide, I contemplated the pieces falling together.
"But then, if dad… Then, why didn't you do anything? You let the Hales die?" I asked.
"I did," she said calmly. This was a new woman I had not seen before. I had always taken my mother as a lightheaded posh daughter of rich parents. The woman before me now, she was a real figure of authority.
"How? Why?"
"Because it had to happen."
I scoffed. "What kind of excuse is that? Because it had to. I don't understand how innocent people have to die."
"It is not an excuse and I don't expect you to understand. At least, not yet."
"So that's it?! You decide who dies and who doesn't?" My father was vacant and his eyes just registered images, while nothing had any meaning to him.
"I don't decide anything. I just know. Some things must happen. Some things must not."
"That's not any explanation. That doesn't make sense."
"Imogene, we are bearers of knowledge. So we just know. For us, the death of the Hales in the hands of an Argent was something to be expected, as the rising of the Sun. And nobody would be able to stop the Sun from rising. Not even someone with wealth or power."
"So that's it? You are just going to keep this war from going on for the rest of time? Hunters and werewolves, fueled by your scheming?"
She laughed mirthlessly. "I see… Here is the problem, Imogene. You have been listening to only one part of this trial. I see Derek Hale has fixed his image of us in your head… We do not keep the war ongoing. We just make sure there is no winner, because then, it would mean there is a loser. Humans or werewolves, one of them would banish. That means a lot of more deaths than just a family."
She leaned on the couch, beside my father, who kept still. I was not sure he was still listening.
"We are, let's say, the law. It keeps you from doing bad things, because you fear the punishment, even although you may not know what it is. Like the monsters of the granny's tales, they keep the children from misbehaving, although they might not be a real threat. That is our power. That is our strength. That's why we are feared equally by humans and non-humans."
"I still think it is despicable. You have innocent blood in your hands!"
"I don't expect you to understand now. Our duty is heavier than it looks. It is painted with shades of grey. But one day you will understand that the Hales had to die in the fire, and Peter had to survive, and Derek had to be the one leading Kate to them, and even this, us sitting here, it had to happen." She sat up and I noticed for the first time she was holding something red in her hand. The red book. "Now, I am taking this to fix back the pages I had to torn before you or your father did something stupid. If you don't mind."
She took the hand of my father.
"We should all go to bed and get some sleep. We have a meeting tomorrow."
I thought I would not be able to sleep, but I did. Tiredness was stronger than the whirlwind of images and words in my head. Somewhere practicality kicked in and surprise was replaced by an array of emotions: anger, incredulity, sadness, even satisfaction.
A knock in the door woke me up. "Get ready, we are leaving in an hour," my mother shouted at the other side.
There was something in her new found voice that did not leave room for arguments. I got up, took a quick shower, dressed, breakfasted, and waited by the door, all of it without thinking of anything at all. A big achievement.
She came back later. She looked magnificent. She had ditched the neck brace definitely. Instead, a maxi necklace adorned her long neck. The new haircut gave her a more mature look, but also it was trendy and chic. She was flawlessly dressed and she even wore her favorite high heels. She was beautiful. Me, dressed on my old jeans and sweater, disappeared by her side.
"Let's go," she said with a bright smile.
We got in the car. Not the one she crushed, but in her second vehicle. Smaller but equally expensive.
"Where are we going?" I asked finally.
We started rolling. "To see an old friend."
She put on the radio, but soon I turned down the volume and asked, "Dad… He didn't know anything of this?"
"He still doesn't know much…" she said. "I explained some things yesterday, but he prefers to not know. He doesn't want to get involved in this. It's his choice."
"What if I also don't want to?"
She laughed. "Oh, dear, you are already in way deep. And do not lie. It is unbecoming of a young lady."
"Why did you let him suffer if you knew he was being threatened by the Argents?"
"I had both of you under my eye. Nothing would have happened to him."
I frowned. "How can you be like this? You don't care if people die, you don't care if your husband is being manipulated…"
"Imogene, you know how some hawks, like the Red tailed hawk, hunt?"
I sighed. "No, mother."
"They first circle around, flying, searching for prey. Then, you can find them perched on trees, observing, calculating. After, it just take them one swoop to get their pray. If they take the time to observe is to not make mistakes. People call them lazy birds, because they just stay in the trees not chasing, but they are just waiting to be ahead."
"It does not change the death of a family."
"I know."
The coffee had enough people so nobody would mind us. The table was a rectangle with four chairs and none of them was empty. I sat by my mother. In front of me, Derek Hale, alive and well, and beside him, Peter Hale, completely healed as well. My mother ordered an Irish coffee, the Hales, both expresso, and I refrained from ordering anything. My stomach would not handle it.
"Well," Peter started, "nice to see you, Diana. It has been a long time since, but you look equally impressive."
My mother mimicked his false politeness. It was something she was a pro at. "Nice to see you too, Peter. I see the hospital served you well. This is my daughter Imogene, although I know you already met her."
"In very different situations. I am afraid I never had the chance to say nice to meet you. I am pleased to say that she is starting to grow off her father's weirdness and to look more like you."
I didn't know how to play this game of wicked smiles and venom filled words, so I stayed silent.
"Shall we discuss what brought us here? Or are we going to keep with the insincerity just for giggles?" My mother cut off.
"As you please," Peter said.
"I would rather."
I looked at Derek. He looked as much a puppet as me, just of a different puppeteer.
Peter clasped his hands in front of himself. "I tried to kill you."
"I am aware," my mother chuckled. "But you didn't."
"Perceptive," Peter smiled. He was quite attractive for a man that had been burned almost to death. "I am going to keep with my vengeance act and you are going to do nothing about it."
My mother snorted. "I didn't mean to."
"What?" I said under my breath. I turned to my mother. "I am the only one in this table that thinks this is wrong?" I looked at Derek, he looked away.
Peter laughed. "She is going to be a problematic one."
"She still didn't pass her trial," my mother said.
"But she will," Peter smiled.
"She will," my mother agreed. "Once the responsible for your family's dead is gone, you will leave this town. Also, I know you are building your pack, you can take Scott McCall, but I won't allow any more transformations."
"I want leverage against the hunters. You have to give something." Peter sipped his coffee. My mother had finished hers and Derek had not touched his yet.
"No," my mother said quietly.
"Then I am not leaving town."
My mother suddenly turned somber, a scary image. She leaned forward. "You want me to give you something? I have been letting things go under my watch enough. Next time I give you something, it will be death." She sat up, threw a note on the table to pay for her coffee and left.
I saw her astonished. I looked at Derek one last time. I wanted to tell him something, I had questions, but Peter's presence was intimidating. He was fuming. I scrambled out of my chair, knocking it down. I put it up, embarrassed, and ran after my mother.
She was already in the car. Never had I seen her so mad. Her knuckles were white with the strength she was grabbing her steering wheel and her manicured long nails dug into her palm.
I felt a simple spectator. My role was fulfilled. The mystery was unveiled.
