Reversing Scars

So this is a story I've been working on off and on. I actually posted it once before but deleted it as I caught a bad case of writers block. But recently have been having waves of inspiration again so I've decided to post it again since I have re-read, edited, rewritten and added a few chapters. I've gotten really into teen wolf again with the anticipation for the upcoming movie. So I started reading teen wolf fanfiction again which has sparked me to write it again.

Chapter 1

Life works upon a compensating balance, and the

happiness we gain in one direction we lose in another

~Jerome K~


It was a dark night. Chilling winds and a suspicious silence filled the air of the small town of beacon hills… or what remained of it anyways. The silence gives way to the pitter patter of paws slapping against concrete. Sneaking trough the small town is a lone starved coyote, one of the last survivors of her pack and maybe more significantly humanity. Even though she's starving she isn't hunting, she's looking for something or rather someone much more important than food.

She's looking for a myth in the hopes that he exists, a witch or advanced druid of sorts who can bend time. He is her last hope.

The coyote approaches a rundown house that once upon a time invoked a feeling of belonging and warmth now just conjures up dread and emptiness. Haunted by ghosts of the past and of what could have been had fate not been so cruel.

As she enters the house she shifts back into her human form for the first time in 5 long months. The inside is thrashed. She walks over the creaking floorboards past and over broken furniture that's strewn about. Carefully she avoids stepping on the shell casings that lie scattered throughout the house all the while tracing the claw marks that litter the walls. She shies away from the dried blood that coats part of the walls and floors, trying desperately to forget who's blood it is. As she keeps moving through the house she notes that the picture frames, that were ones cherished and proudly displayed, now lie broken and abandoned on the floor.

After the were-coyote dresses herself she gently picks up one of the picture frames studying those in it, a smile twitching in the corners of her mouth. she remembers the day that picture was taken like it was yesterday…

It smelled like freshly cut grass and sizzling meat from the barbeque. A soft breeze rustling her hair as the sun beat down on her back. The McCall backyard was filled to the brim with people, with pack, young and old, human and other, people that loved each other.

They'd congregated there, each bringing something to the table. She'd brought deer meat for the grill, Lydia brought some expensive wines, the younger and thus jobless members came stumbling in with snack filled arms, Stiles and his dad showed up lugging a lot of lawn chairs with them, surprisingly Derek and Breadon showed up with a big inflatable pool which was a godsent with the heat.

And because the entire pack was together in one place, which was a small miracle, Stiles decided that this momentous occasion needed to be documented which is how she ended up in this predicament;

''Come on, Malia! Smile like you're enjoying yourself, not like we're holding you at gunpoint demanding a hefty ransom for your return!'' Stiles yells from his spot as camera man.

Face molding into a frown as Stiles criticizes her smile for the tenth time, like she doesn't know how to smile, ''I am smiling good!''

''Well, Malia. You're smiling, well.'' He corrects her grammar waving his hands wildly.

''Exactly, so what are you complaining about Stiles?!'' Malia responds smirking, Lydia is definitely rubbing off on her.

Stiles splutters as everyone laughs at his small plight.

''Stiles just set the timer already, we can't stand here forever'' Lydia throws in after a while. Not unjustified considering Stiles has been critiquing, the not yet taken picture, for about 10 minutes now.

Sighing in dramatically Stiles whines, ''Ugh Scott, help me man their ganging up on me.''

Chuckling at his best friends antics Scott decides to take pity on him, ''Stiles just set the timer before Derek decides that breaking the camera is faster than taking the picture.''

''But…''

''Stiles, don't worry about it.'' he says with a reassuring smile.

''Fine. If you want to document this once in a lifetime occasion with a picture of a scowling sourwolf, Liam looking at everything but the camera, an empty chair because Corey keeps going invisible and Malia looking like a kidnappé then go right ahead.'' Stiles grumbles as he sets the timer.

''Hey! That happened one time, and it was your fault for leaving the flash on!'' Corey cries out indignantly.

Stiles ignores his indignant cry jogging to take his place next to Lydia as the timer counts down.

5 ''Liam look at the camera or you'll be doing all the dishes'',

4 ''Derek smile at the camera or I'll tell Braeden what happened to her bike''

3 ''Wait, what happened to my bike?!''

''And Malia honey just look at the camera and think of deer''

2 ''Deer?''

1 Flash.

Sheriff Stilinski stands with his arm over his son's shoulder, Stiles meanwhile holds onto Lydia's waist. Next to Lydia stand Braeden and Derek. Derek being held there by Malia's arm over his shoulder, Malia stands next to Scott who has one of his hands on the small of her back. Isaac stands next to Scott and thereafter follow Chris and Melissa, standing snugly together. In front of them on lawn chairs sit Jacksen & Ethan, sharing a lawn chair, Kira, Theo, Liam, Mason, Corey, Hayden and lastly Peter whom they had to drag into the picture after he stated that he didn't do sappy family pictures.

Somehow they all ended up smiling into the camera, the perfect picture of a mixed mashed unperfect family.

That was before…

Before the war

Before the death

Before the unbearable pain

Before they lost all hope

Before they had to bury the people in that picture one after the other

Well to sum it up, before their world shattered and they made the heartbreaking realization that they had no way of shielding those they loved from the razor sharp shards.

Malia takes the picture out of its broken frame and folds in into her pocket when suddenly the floorboard creaks, turning around quickly she comes face to face with a man. She takes out her claws and growls, these days strangers only brought trouble.

''Calm child, I come in peace,'' the unknown man says even as Malia pins him roughly against the wall.

''Who are you and what do you want from me?''

''It is not I, that seeks something child,'' the man replies calmly, completely unfazed by the situation he finds himself in. His eyes have this strange glow about them. And as she looks at them a little more it feels as if he can look directly into your soul.

Malia's eyes widen, backing off him just slightly so he isn't pinned to the wall any longer, ''you… you're the druid, you have to reverse this. This hell.''

''I'm afraid I cannot, 'reverse this'… However, you could.'' The druid answers cryptically.

''Stop with these riddles and fix this,'' She growls out aggressively, done with his nonsense.

The druid remains unmoved by her hostility. ''Like I stated earlier I cannot, but you could. That is if you are willing.''

''Yes, of course what kinda stupid question is that? Whatever you want, you can have. I just want my family back.''

Turning away from the were-coyote he begins to trace the bullet holes that mark the walls, ''Child there is a way I can give you what you seek, however it comes at a grave price.''

''Like. I. Said. Anything.'' Malia growls out, frustration coting every single word.

''It would cost you your life, or rather the life you knew. You'll meet people who look like the people you love but aren't them, do you understand?'' The druid says turning back to her.

Malia swallows, ''So what's the plan?''

''We both know what started the war, and that it originated from right here, Beacon Hills. To prevent history from repeating itself we must prevent many deaths or give them foreknowledge of the future, to not only change the course of history but stop the repetition of mistakes and perhaps better a few lives while we're at it.'' The druid explains, ''But to do this you must guide them, protect them from each other and at times from themselves.''

''Okay, let's do this'' Malia responds, not like she has any other options.

''Before we do this I have to warn you child, these people will not be the same as when you knew them.'' The druid states, ''There is no getting them back, these might as well be strangers.''

''I understand perfectly, I'm the one who buried them after all.'' Malia says with a strained look on her face.

With that Malia's world goes black.


AN:

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