Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: Sam Campbell, Charlie Jones, Zane, Chase, Gabriel, Ben, Mia, Harlequin (Harley),Stiles' fox = Melrakki (Rak), Stiles' wolf = Okami (Oki), Derek's wolf = Cana.
JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD
Please, please review XD
You guys are all so amazing and I love you all! In a non-creepy non-psycho kind of way XD
SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT, BUT I'M AT UNIVERSITY!
Chapter 47
Stiles
I couldn't understand - didn't want to believe it...
I thought it had to be a bad dream, that I would waked up any second. That it wasn't real; wasn't happening!
No!
He couldn't have been there, couldn't have been standing in front of me! How could he have found out where I was?! How the hell did he find me?!
I didn't know.
I couldn't understand.
I pushed Harley behind me, backing him as far from the door as I could. I didn't want the kid anywhere near the asshole! But could you blame me? Imagine what he could do to Harley! No, I wasn't going to let that happen. He could do whatever he wanted to me, but I wasn't about to let him hurt the people I loved!
"What? No hug for your old man?" Dad sneered, stepping slowly over the threshold.
Before I could blink, a figure was standing between Dad and me. For a moment, I didn't know who it was, too concerned with the fact my father had somehow found me! Then I recognised Isaac. I recognised his scent. I recognised his heartbeat.
That didn't help.
The pup was growling, his entire body tense. He was ready to attack.
"Isaac. Don't." I hissed.
He just ignored me.
Dad - not knowing anything of the supernatural, thus not knowing about Isaac being a werewolf - just smirked and kept walking forward, only seeing a teenager. A weak looking teenager that he could easily beat into submission.
I couldn't tell if he would do anything to Isaac. I mean, there was the possibility he wouldn't - he didn't know Isaac, he didn't know who else lived in the house, he didn't know what they knew... The only person I knew he'd hurt was me.
I didn't want to risk it.
The moment Dad got just a step too close, I grabbed Isaac by the back of his t-shirt, flinging him behind me with Harley. I heard something smash on the floor, but I didn't turn to look. If I turned to look, then I would stand less of a chance against Dad than I already did.
I could feel my heart pounding against my chest, as I looked him in the eyes. I could smell the excited anticipation coming off of him, as he watched me trying to protect those I cared about. I could hear the others rushing towards the front door, but Dad's eyes never left me.
This wasn't supposed to happen!
"H-How did you find me?" I stuttered, my voice barely a whisper.
"Picked up some druggie off the street, boasting about how he knew where you were." Dad laughed. "Cut him a deal if he told me where you were and who told him. Someone by the name of Zane let him know."
My heart stopped.
I should have known. Zane was the only one from Dallas who knew where I was... I should have known he would have been involved! I should have known that, somehow, it would have gotten back to Dad!
This isn't over -that's what Zane had said. I should have known that this could have happened!
It shouldn't have been such a surprise.
I just didn't want to believe that it could happen. I wanted to believe that I was safe. I wanted to believe that I had finally gotten away from it all... I shouldn't have been so stupid! I should have known that, the moment I let my guard down, something bad would happen! And what had I done? I had put the people I care about, the people I loved, in danger!
What kind of person was I?
"Wh-What do you want?" I stuttered. "Wh-Why are you here?"
"You gotta ask?" he snarled. "You think I could let you leave and believe you wouldn't blab? No. The only way you were leaving was in a body bag."
Of course...
"Now, you be a good boy and get in the car." he growled.
I was frozen.
I couldn't move.
Okami and Melrakki were hiding in the shadows of my mind, the two huddled as close together as possible.
The three of us had never been able to face him before, so how could we now?
When Dad saw I wasn't moving, everything about him changed. His scent changed to anger. He body language shifted; tensed. His jaw locked. He turned into The Sheriff. His eyes narrowed as he tried, by sheer will, to force me out of the door. Behind the eyes, I could see what the punishment would be if he managed to get a hold of me, if I didn't move. That made me not want to move all the more, yet move all at the same time.
His hand shot out towards me.
But it never grabbed me.
Derek had, somehow, gotten between us, Dad's wrist caught tight in his grasp. He was growling under his breath, his shoulders drawn tight. I dreaded to think of the look on his face.
"Get out of my house." Derek hissed. "Before I throw you out."
Unlike Zane, Dad admitted defeat. He slowly backed away towards the door, but the fierce grin on his face never fell.
"Remember, I still have it all." he cackled.
Derek just slammed the door in his face.
I couldn't stop shaking.
I couldn't stop apologising.
I didn't mean to do any of this to any of them!
All I wanted was to live my life. All I wanted was to be happy, was that such a crime?
Apparently it was.
"Look, I'll... I'll just leave." I whispered. "I've brought too much baggage; none of you should be dragged into this."
Instantly, I had Harley clinging onto me, his hands fisted so tight in my shirt, as if that could stop me from leaving. I had to look away from his face, just so I didn't just break down and cry... Of course, looking away from him meant looking at the others.
It didn't help.
They were a mix of anger, shock and hurt. They looked confused, as if wondering why I would even suggest leaving in the first place.
"You're not leaving." Derek said. "You can't leave."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because you're Pack." Isaac whispered, smiling a little. "You're family."
Family? Pack? I am?
I didn't understand. I couldn't figure out how or even it happened. Though I knew they cared for me, I didn't think it was rooted that deeply... But, hearing those words, it sounded right. It didn't sound like lies. Everything about what Isaac had said, it all felt right.
I couldn't help it; I couldn't stop the tears. They spilled over my eyes and ran down my cheeks, my chest and throat aching as I tried to stay silent. I hung my head, trying to hide the them, wishing I could just man up already and take it with a smile. I mean, this wasn't anything to cry at! What Isaac had said, what the others were agreeing to, was a happy thing. Why was I crying?
Before I could say anything, I had arms enfold me from all directions. Every single person in the Pack - my Pack - hugged me as best they could, as if they alone could keep me together.
It took me a while to calm down. Longer than I would have liked.
None of them wanted to let me go, adamant to make me believe that, yes, I was one of them. I was family.
We all bundled onto the floor, everyone sitting in a circle as close to each other as possible. I had Harley sitting on my lap, his head tucked under my chin; Derek sat to my left, his knee and arm brushing against mine; Isaac sat to my right, leaning into me slightly.
I knew I had to tell them.
I had to tell them the truth.
"I told you that, when I was fourteen, I told my Dad that I was gay and he didn't take it well... I, uh, kind of downplayed that. A lot." I started, hesitantly. "He beat me. To the point I blacked out. It happened a lot after that first day."
I couldn't look at any of them as I spoke, taking to staring at the middle of the circle over Harley's head.
It was easier for me that way.
"The scars on my back were because of him. Zane mainly kept to the front. They never seemed to disappear..." I continued. "I lied when I spoke about having friends in Dallas. I never did. So they weren't the ones that would hurt me. It was my Dad. He's the reason I would end up in hospital so much."
I could feel their emotions invading my senses. Could feel the way they tensed with anger.
"The nightmares started again when Dad started to beat me. He hated me - I wasn't his son anymore. I was a thing. He didn't care if he had to throw me in a cell for a night, not until the next day, anyway." I sighed. "You've seen my record, you know the things they charged me with. But, I'll tell you now: I was set up with the drugs and vandalism, the assault was me defending myself, and the theft wasn't even me, I was just standing outside whilst someone I knew did it. Yes, I did try to kill my Dad, but that's because I couldn't take it anymore."
I wished I could stop talking.
I wished that was it...
I didn't want to tell them more.
"They - Dad and Zane - would burn me a lot. Mainly Dad, and he would always use cigarettes... I hate them - the smell of them, the sight of them... Like most people, I don't like getting burned. They both liked using knives too... Dad liked to use his belt too." I muttered. "Dad would always take me down to the basement. Well, more like drag me down - that's why I don't like them. Sometimes I'd be locked down there for days. Sometimes I would be chained to the wall. When he got bored, he'd leave - I'd have to clean everything up, even though I was still bleeding out."
I didn't want to tell them.
I didn't want them to know.
I wanted to protect them all.
But, after everything that had happened, they deserved to know.
"I don't regret doing it - running away I mean. I needed to get away from there and, if I hadn't, I wouldn't have met any of you." I whispered. "I just wish I had some of my things - computer, books, pictures... That's what Dad meant when he said he still had it all."
I didn't speak much after that.
What else could I say?
They knew. That was all that mattered.
I didn't take myself away from all of them, like I used to. I just lay on the couch, Harley tucked into my side. The kid was far too quiet for my liking. I mean, don't get me wrong, sometimes he did get quiet - this was just too quiet for him. I could understand why, especially after hearing what I had said. Well, to be honest, he probably didn't even need me to say it - who knew how loud mine or Dad's thoughts were.
I didn't blame him for being quiet.
I felt numb. It was like I was detached from my body; not really feeling, only seeing. Like I wasn't really there. Was that normal? Was that the usual thing to happen? I didn't know. I didn't know who would know.
Isaac would have probably been my best bet. He was the only one that knew about abusive fathers... But I didn't know if he would know what to say. I mean, unless his dad came back from the dead, I doubted he would know exactly what to do.
Sighing, I covered my eyes with a hand. I wished I had never woken up that day, maybe then none of this would have happened. Maybe then Dad would never have shown up. Maybe then I would have been able to continue living my life, not even entertaining the thought of him ever finding me.
I just wanted to move on.
I just wanted my past to leave me alone.
I just wanted to be able to go on.
I just wanted to live.
Was that so wrong? Was it so wrong of me to want to feel safe; to feel loved? Was it so wrong of me to want to strive for something better than I had in Dallas - something I had found in Beacon Hills?
It was the next day that Derek mentioned it.
We were all sitting in the kitchen, breakfast dishes resting on the table. It had been a quiet morning so far, an uncomfortable quiet, our minds still turned to the events of the day before.
No one said anything. I didn't want to and I don't think anyone else wanted to risk saying the wrong thing. I was grateful, to be honest, that they were being so considerate about it, and I knew what I had told them had been a lot to take in... But I hated the walking on eggshells, you know? I just wanted to carry on with my life.
Derek, as always, was sat to my left at the head of the table. He kept staring at the table, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw locked. He had been like that the entire morning. Everyone wanted to know what was wrong with him, wanted to know what he was thinking so hard about. His silence was what bugged me the most. I mean, sure, Derek was usually quiet at breakfast, but never this quiet. He would still smile, chuckling softly. He would be relaxed and open...
It was disconcerting with him like this.
It was Harley's uncomfortable state that got me to do something, the child shifting more than usual, burying himself closer into my side than ever before. That was the last straw for me - I didn't want the boy to feel like that.
It was as I went to more that Derek spoke.
I never expect for him to say it. I never expected for any of them to say it. I had hoped we could all forget about what had happened the day before; hoped we could just moved past it...
Apparently, that wasn't the case.
"Wh-What?" I whispered.
"We're going to Dallas." Derek repeated.
His words barely registered in my head. I couldn't understand what he was saying. Go to Dallas? Why would he want to go to Dallas? Dallas was where Dad was. Dallas was where Zane was. Dallas was where people wanted to hurt me.
"Wh-Why?" I shrieked.
"We're going to get the rest of your things." Derek shrugged.
I hadn't expected that answer.
I could have done without my things, even though some were irreplaceable. I just never wanted to go back to Dallas. Never. But here was Derek - this amazing man, who had done so much for me already - suggesting that he, that all of them, would come with me...
Derek really isn't like anyone else I've met...
"And when did you decide this?" I asked, shakily.
"We discussed it last night." Peter told me. "After you fell asleep."
Nodding slowly, I slumped back into my chair, staring at my dirty plate in front of me. It made sense that that was why they hadn't said anything - they wanted Derek to bring it up, they didn't want to run the risk that any of them would accidentally let it slip.
They had it planned from the moment I fell asleep.
I didn't know whether I wanted to laugh or cry. It was too much... But I wanted to agree. As much as I didn't want any of them there, didn't want any of them to see it, I wanted to agree to going. I mean, if they were going, so was I. There was no way I would let them go without me.
The moment I looked up, I knew they all knew my answer.
None of them smiled, none of them looked happy that I had agreed. They all looked determined, ready to go and get back as fast as we possibly could.
Harley, on the other hand, was not as accepting.
"You can't go!" he shouted, swinging himself around until he could kneel on his chair, facing Derek and me. "Y-You just can't!"
"I have t-" I started.
Harley shook his head violently, his hands gripping my shirt at the shoulder. He was breathing harshly, his chest moving rapidly, too fast for comfort.
"But he's bad!" he cried, shrieking.
"I know." I told him, calmly.
"He does bad things!"
"I know, Sweetheart, but I can't let them go without me."
Harley wasn't coming with us, that much was simple. He was going to stay in Beacon Hills. With Sam and Charlie.
We had the two women come to the house that Monday, not telling them about the plan to go to Dallas until that evening... Sam was fighting us tooth and nail, all the way into Tuesday. She was going to fight us until the moment we left - which happened to be that Tuesday evening.
Not that she knew that.
There was a good reason why I didn't want Sam coming - I didn't want Sam to see the things with my Dad and everything back in Dallas. It could bring up some bad shit with her, you know? Derek and the others were going to have enough of their plate with Isaac and me freaking out, trying to deal with things, they didn't need to add one more person into the mix doing the same thing.
Besides, I doubted Sam need to see my reactions to everything.
I mean, there was going to be a lot of shit there that I didn't want to face - the basement for one thing... And then there was a very good chance that the issue of Zane could be brought up. Now, if I knew Sam as well as I did, we would have a hard time stopping her from killing Zane if he was pointed out to her.
As much as I wanted Zane gone, he was human. Yes, so was Sam, but she was a Hunter. She was far stronger than she looked and she knew ways to torture him. I didn't want to stoop down to his level, nor did I want anyone I cared about to stoop down to his level.
It would be hard enough stopping my Pack from trying to kill or seriously maim him, I didn't have to worry about Sam too.
I needed her to stay behind and help look after Harley.
Harley would need her whilst I was gone.
I didn't like the idea of leaving Harley behind. I didn't like that I had to go somewhere and know that he would be upset. It hurt me. It hurt that I knew he would be upset and worried. It hurt that I knew he didn't want me to go, but I knew I had to.
I wasn't going to win, no matter what I decided.
Harley hadn't let me go since the decision had been made that we were going. He was attached to my hip during the day, he refused to sleep in his own bed... He just didn't want me to leave.
I had tried talking with him about it. I had tried explaining it to him. He understood, of course he was. He really was an intelligent kid. He just didn't like the fact it had to happen. He didn't like the fact he knew what Dad had thought - about what he used t do to me and about what he wanted to do. I didn't blame the kid for not wanting me to go.
It was hard talking to him about it. His head would drop, his eyes would water and his lower lip would tremble. I didn't like seeing him cry. The first time I saw him cry, was the first time we had all met him - we all knew what happened with that. Seeing anyone I loved cry, knowing I was part of the reason for it, was one of the hardest things for me to witness.
It hurt.
Sam and Charlie had been put up in one of the spare rooms - the one next to Harley's, to be specific. Knowing Sam was with Charlie, I knew she would be fast asleep, it would be difficult to wake her up.
Which was why we had to leave then.
I had left Harley in my room, in my bed, wrapped tightly in the covers with a letter on the bedside table, for him to read when he woke up. Even though he knew we were going to be leaving, I hated that I couldn't wait until he was awake. But it would be easier - for him and for me.
I had, also, left a letter for Sam and Charlie, only this one was placed on the kitchen table. I had to explain to them just why we had to leave without them knowing. I had to let them know. They deserved to know.
I just hoped they weren't too angry when we got back.
It was hard leaving the house, especially after our bags had been packed into cars. I didn't want to leave, I just felt so guilty... But I had to, I didn't have a choice but to leave.
It was moments like these that I wanted to be able to skip forward. Just skip the leaving, just skip to coming back home.
It took Derek guiding me into his car for me to move, let alone leave. He, literally, had to wrap his arm around me, pulling me gently towards the vehicle, opening the door and practically putting me into the car himself.
He didn't say anything about it. None of them did. They could tell. They could all smell and feel what was going on with me. They all knew, so they didn't have to say anything or ask. They just let it happen, clambering into the cars and getting ready to drive to the airport.
Sitting in the back of Derek's car, I barely paid attention as he and Peter climbed in themselves, with Derek in the driver's seat and Peter in the passenger's seat. I barely paid attention to anything going on around me, just staring out the window at the house.
These next few days were going to feel like a life time.
The drive to Chico Municipal Airport took an hour and eleven minutes.
We left the cars in the long stay parking lot, taking our things out of the cars before Derek, Jackson, Danny and Allison went to speak to one of the employees about payment and things. No one would have to pay until we came back.
Our flight wouldn't be until three in the morning... Currently, it was only a few minutes until one in the morning.
We didn't have all that long to wait, but it was still far too long for my liking. I wanted to be on the plane already, flying to the last place I wanted to be, just so I could get back already.
But it would be faster than driving. Driving would take, about, twenty seven hours.
Flying was the fastest way to get there.
Whilst we waited for our plane, Peter and the Betas went to get food. No one wanted to sit in the bar, so they all went to the nearest shop that sold food, seeing if there was anything anyone would eat.
Derek and I stayed with the carryon bags - the only luggage any of us had.
"It'll all be fine, Genim." Derek whispered, his arm snaking around my shoulders. "It'll all be fine."
"Will it?" I asked, slumping into his side, my head dropping onto his shoulder.
"Of course it will. We'll be home before you know it, you'll have everything you need. You won't have anything tying you to that place anymore."
I wished it was that simple.
Sure, I would have anything material tying me to Dallas, but I would have my Dad. Yes, he was a cruel bastard and I wanted nothing to do with him, but he wasn't always like that. That's what people always seemed to forget - well, apart from Isaac. I knew it was hard, thinking that someone like him used to be a great Dad, used to be someone I looked up to. But he had been. He had been my role model. He was the one that would tell me the monsters would never get me, because they would have to go through him first. After Mom died, he had been the one keeping me sane.
I would still have the memory of how my Dad used to be tying me to Dallas. I would have my Mom tying me to Dallas, her ashes kept in an urn in Dad's living room.
I could understand what Derek mean when he said that, though. I understood where he was coming from. But it was hard to believe him when I knew that that wasn't the case.
I would always have something tying me to Dallas.
Even after my Dad was dead, I would always have something tying me to Dallas.
That would never change.
I couldn't keep still on the plane.
Even with Derek next to me, I couldn't keep still.
With it being three in the morning, most of the passengers on the plane were asleep, too exhausted to stay awake. The majority of the Pack were asleep. Peter was trying to fight it, but was slowly losing the battle; Derek was the only one awake with me.
The moment we could take off our seatbelts, I was looking around at my Pack. Obviously I knew they were asleep, but I needed to be sure that they were alright. I suppose you could say I was being paranoid. But, could you blame me? I was going to a place I had ran away from, for good reason too, so of course I would be paranoid. They could get hurt. It didn't matter if they were werewolves, it didn't matter if they had super healing.
They could still get hurt.
I looked around at all of them - Boyd leaning back against the window of the plane, his arms wound tight around Erica, the blonde's hand loosely gripping Isaac's; Isaac leaning into Danny's side, with Danny huddling him close; Jackson leaning his head against the window, Lydia laying against his side; Allison and Scott propped up against each other, Allison's head on Scott's shoulder; Peter sprawled in his seat on the other side of Derek. They all seemed so peaceful, not fully understanding what they would be walking into.
They were all so willing to jump in, head first, without fully understanding what was coming their way.
It was as I looked around at them that I felt a hand on my arm. My head snapped around to look at Derek, the Alpha wolf watching me with a small smile on his face. He looked almost sad... Taking one more look around at the others, I slipped back down into my seat, keeping my eyes on Derek.
"They're all fine." Derek told me. "Just breathe. Try to calm down."
"I can't help it." I sighed. "I just... I can't stop thinking that something's going to go wrong."
"Nothing will go wrong. I'll make sure of that."
"But Derek-"
"No buts. I'm going to make sure that you, that everyone, will be fine. I promise you."
Hanging my head, I didn't know what to say. All I wanted was for the Pack, for my family, to be ok. I wanted them to be safe, to not have to worry about anything. But I couldn't get the feeling out of my head. It was that voice in the back of my mind, yelling at me, saying that something would go wrong, that someone would get hurt.
I couldn't stop worrying that one of them would be harmed.
"Hey, come here." Derek breathed.
Derek lifted his right arm up, waiting for me to move a little closer before wrapping it around me, pulling me against him. He held me tightly, turning his face down into the top of my head, burying his nose into my hair.
As I leant against him, my ear pressed to his chest, I lifted my own right arm, my hand fisting in his t-shirt. I could hear his heart beating calmly, could hear power running through his veins. It was strange thinking that our wolves were on the same level, yet I felt safer when he was with me, when he held me.
"Derek? I've been thinking." I muttered.
"About what?" he whispered, nuzzling my hair slightly.
Pushing closer to the Alpha wolf, I turned my face further into his chest, gripping his shirt tighter as I breathed in his scent. I was overwhelmed by his scent, almost feeling a little drunk as it washed over me. What I wouldn't give to have that all the time...
"Well, it's just... If we're both Alphas, how can I be part of the Pack?" I asked. "I mean, wouldn't I have been knocked down to a Beta?"
"Not necessarily. I remember my Mom meeting with many Packs with two Alphas." Derek shrugged. "Yes, it was usually an Alpha Male and an Alpha Female, but that's beside the point."
"So, my wolf can still be an Alpha, even though I'm part of your Pack?"
"Pretty much, yeah. It just means that you hold a bit more authority than the others, just not as much as me... Think of it like you're my second in command."
I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I could feel my throat starting to strain. I didn't think I'd ever have a Pack, let alone be my Pack's second. But here I was, with a Pack I hadn't realised until two days ago I had, being it's second.
To be honest, it made some sense. For example, those few days before Christmas when Jackson had told Isaac that Santa wasn't real, I had made Jackson, Erica, Allison and Danny bare their necks and leave the room with the red seeping into my eyes, growling under my breath... That should have been a clue.
"I like that." I smiled, feeling my eyes get heavier and heavier.
"So do I." he chuckled. "Now sleep. We've still got three hours until we land."
The last thing I felt before I fell asleep was warmth.
We landed just over three hours after the plane had left the runway, in California. Now, Dallas was two hours ahead; so where it would be six in the morning in Beacon Hills, it was eight in the morning in Dallas.
As soon as we were able to leave the airport, we took a nine minute cab ride to the Embassy Suites by Hilton Dallas Love Field - Derek and Peter had, apparently, done their research, booking us all rooms before we had even got plane tickets. I mean, they had even gone ahead and hired a car!
To be honest, that was a good idea - it would take too long to walk to Dad's house from the hotel... It would take close to seven and a half hours to walk, the drive was about forty minutes.
Everyone had gathered in mine and Derek's room - Peter was the only one not sharing - after putting their bags in their own. I sat cross-legged on the edge of one of the beds, hugging a pillow to my chest.
"We'll stay here today; rest up." Derek said. "We might need it. We'll go get everything in the morning.
Taking a deep breath, I nodded. It would have been a bad idea to go in, guns blazing, with them all so tired. And I knew they were. None of them actually slept before we left for the airport, and three hours wasn't that much of a sleep.
They needed their energy.
"It would probably be best to stay in the hotel." I muttered. "To be honest, I don't know who'll recognise me."
"That's fine." Peter smiled. "We can work out how tomorrow's going to go; order room service. We'll all be just fine staying in the hotel."
Allison hugged me as the others agreed, her arms winding around my shoulders from behind me. I took one hand away from the pillow, lifting it up cling onto her arm, resting my chin on the back of my hand.
I felt like a kid again. I just felt so weak and helpless; defenceless. I felt so alone, isolated...
I hated being back in Dallas.
The next day - Wednesday, July 9th - we woke up at half seven. I would have liked to have gone straight to the house, but I knew Dad wouldn't even be ready yet, not having to leave until nine o'clock. We were going to wait until eight to leave, leaving it until the last possible minute to turn up.
I was hoping that things would go smoothly. I was hoping we'd be in and out quickly.
I doubted anything like that would happen.
No one wanted to eat. I think they were all too anxious to get to the house and leave to eat. I just felt sick. I felt as if I was going to faint. I felt how I did when that Spirit Witch took away Okami and Melrakki...
Even though everyone had gathered in mine and Derek's room, again, preparing themselves for when we had to leave, I couldn't find it in me to get up off of the bed. I mean, I was dressed, but I couldn't find the will to sit up, to move.
I just wanted to bury myself under to covers and fall asleep until it was all over.
I just wanted to be home already.
They knew my reluctance to go. They could tell. I know they could. But they said nothing about it. They didn't try to force me to get up just yet, letting me get my head around it first - well, as much as I could, anyway.
"Stiles, my boy?" Peter's voice came gently. "Perhaps you could tell us exactly where we'll be driving to?"
"Fourteen-fifty one-zero, Seagoville Road." I sighed. "It takes about forty minute to get there from here."
From where I was laying, I could see Peter making a note of the address, most likely so he or Derek could input it into the car's GPS when we left. I had told them, when I found out they had hired the car, that they didn't need it - I mean, they had me. Honestly? I don't think they really listened when I had said that...
"You don't need to do that." I said. "I'll be able to get us there."
"You don't need to worry about that, Stiles." Peter told me.
"It'll be easier if I do it. Trust me. I know the roads."
Peter didn't put the pen and small pad of paper down until Derek sighed, agreeing that I was right.
All we had to do was wait until eight.
Just after eight forty, we got to the house - 14510 Seagoville Road. For a moment, I just sat in the car, staring up at the two-storey house. I could feel my heartbeat start to race; feel my breathing quicken.
Too many things had happened in that house. Too many things that I just wanted to forget...
Come on, Stilinski! Just one more time.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly opened the passenger side door, slamming it harshly as soon as I had stepped out. I stood on the path, right on the edge of the grass verge that led up to the house. I couldn't seem to move any closer, couldn't seem to make myself step any closer.
I just stood there. Staring.
FLASHBACK - Friday, September 26th 2008 - 14 year old Stiles
I just sat in Dad's car as soon as we pulled up to the house. I didn't want to move, I didn't want to go inside. I wanted to run, I wanted to hide... Where could I go though? I had no friends, I had no other family. There was nowhere for me to go.
I kept myself huddled in my seat, head handing down so my hair covered my face. I kept myself as small as I possibly could. I could feel my heart thundering in my chest, could feel my stomach churning as I sat there.
I don't want to go inside.
I hadn't realised Dad had gotten out of the car, not until the door on my side was wrenched open. I startled, flinching away as my head snapped up to look at him.
His face was expressionless, jaw locked in place... I could feel myself shaking where I sat, already imagining what he would do to me.
"Get out." he growled, quietly. "In the house. Now."
I moved as fast as I could, stumbling as I threw myself out of the car. I landed harshly on my hands and knees, the gravel cutting my palms open, speckles of blood dropping on the ground. The stinging didn't hurt as much now as it would have done a few months ago... Dad's knives and belts hurt more - his fists hurt more.
A hand grabbed me by my upper arm, hauling me to my feet.
I heard the door slam behind me as I was dragged to the front door.
To anyone seeing it, they would have seen a Dad helping their kid up off of the ground, helping them walk to the house after they hit their knees on the hard pavement.
I wished that was the case...
The moment the door to the house was closed behind us, I was thrown against the wall. My head bounced off of it, crumpling to floor. My head was pounding, spinning. Black spots invaded my sight, clouding everything I saw. My ears were ringing, but I could still hear the faint footsteps of my Dad walking towards me.
I tried to scramble away from him.
I tried to push myself as far away as I possibly could, my legs too weak to try and get up. I could hear the soft sound of clinking metal as Dad started removing his belt.
I knew what was coming next.
I tried to move faster, tried to get away from him... Dad was faster. He grabbed me by my t-shirt, lifting me up slightly before throwing my back onto the floor, as if I was a bit of trash. I suppose, to him, that was all I was. I landed on my stomach, the air knocking out of my chest.
There was no use in running.
The first thing I felt was the knife. The blade sliced into the back of my shirt, ripping it apart as the sharp point dug into my flesh.
The knife didn't hurt that much...
Next came the belt. I heard the leather slap together as Dad folded it in half and pulled it tight. Screwing my eyes as tight as I possibly could, my entire body tensed.
The first hit was always the worst.
After the first hit, I almost went numb. It still hurt, yes, just not as much as that first slap of pain.
I hoped I blacked out before the basement.
END OF FLASHBACK - BACK TO: Wednesday, July 9th 2014
A gentle hand brought me back to the moment. I didn't startle and attack, like I used to... Instead, I just jumped a little, turning to face the direction the hand came from. I found Derek standing to my left, his entire being calm and collected. It was, almost, reassuring.
Almost.
"Are you ready?" Derek asked, quietly.
"I have to be." I sighed.
With that, I started walking forward, the strength of my friends - my family - behind me. I walked as slowly as I could, trying to prolong the inevitable... I just didn't want to see Dad's face. I didn't want to see him; I didn't want to speak to him.
I hoped that he had already left for work, that way we could 'break' in, get my things and leave... He would never have to know we were there.
The moment I was a few feet away from the door, it swung open.
I froze mid step. I thought I had, at least, until I had knocked on the door. I thought, for sure, I would have longer to prepare myself.
Apparently not.
"Thought I heard something." Dad sneered. "So, you decided to come back after all."
"No. He didn't." Derek growled.
Frowning, Dad looked past me, spotting the Pack behind me. His body language switched, going from relaxed to completely on guard, his hand hovering over his gun. If only he knew that it would only work on one person in the Pack...
"What? Can't face me yourself?" Dad snorted. "Pathetic."
I took a step back.
It was instinctive; a subconscious action. I backed up into Derek's chest, the Alpha wolf's hand coming up to steady me.
"St-Stop it..." I stuttered, leaning further into Derek's chest. "L-Leave me alone."
I wanted to be brave. I did. I wanted to be able to stand there and face him; be able to be strong! But I couldn't. Okami and Melrakki were just as scared as I was. If it had only been them that were scared, I could have tried. But, how could I, when it was all three of us?
Chuckling to himself, Dad took a step forward, leaning against the doorframe with a hand still hovering over his gun. Slowly, he glanced over as many of the faces behind he as he could, smirking all the while.
He didn't seem to care that there was ten of them and only one of him...
His cold gaze just kept wandering over them all, sizing them all up. He wouldn't see the girls as a threat, Derek and Boyd, however, would be a different story. How he ordered the others? I couldn't even make a guess.
"Well, if I have to leave you alone, why don't I go for one of your friends?" he spat. "I like the curly haired guy."
I followed his eyes, seeing his gaze turned to Isaac.
"No!" I protested. "Not him; not them!"
My entire body was shaking. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end; my nails starting to sharpen and pierce my palms, as I curled my hands into fists.
I was losing control.
It was too dangerous.
Dad just smirked.
"You want your shit right? It's down there." Dad sneered, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder.
"N-No..." I whispered to myself, trying to back away more.
Dad just laughed, walking back into the house.
"Aw, you scared of the dark?" he mocked. "Be a real mad and go get your shit! I just might leave you alone long enough for you to do that."
Dad did stay out of our way.
He was nowhere near us as we walked into the house, even staying away as the others looked around.
They came with me to check upstairs first, going to see if Dad really had taken everything down to the basement like he said he had. The moment I walked in, I found it completely empty. Everything that had been left out in the open, everything from my closet and draws were gone...
The only things that were left were the things I had hidden under the floorboards.
It wasn't much - a photo album and a small box. They were precious items that I couldn't let Dad find. God knows what he would have done to them!
Peter had taken them out to the car, hiding them underneath one of the seats. When he came back inside, I had already led the others to the door in the kitchen... I stood there, staring at it, the wooden rectangle and the darkness behind it mocking me. I would have given anything not to go down there, but how else was I supposed to get the rest of my things?
"You guys stay up here." I gulped, shakily reaching out to grasp the handle of the door.
"No fucking way!" Jackson scoffed. "We're not letting you do this alone."
I glanced at them all from over my shoulder. Their faces were set hard with determination, backs ramrod straight. They believed in every word, none of them wanting to back down. Not even Isaac, who was shaking ever so slightly.
The youngest Pack member and I locked eyes for a moment, the two of us drawing strength from the knowledge that we weren't alone. Isaac had been locked in a freezer, in a basement; I had been tortured, in a basement. We both had bad experiences. We understood each other.
That was enough for me.
Nodding slightly, I opened the door.
"Just... Prepare yourselves." I told them, flicking on the light switch for the underground space.
With each step, it got harder to breathe. It felt like there was a tangible weight sitting on my chest, a little more being added the deeper into the room I went. The presence of my Pack was the only thing keeping me together.
The room was cold, smelling metallic and stale.
No windows, only one door.
The flooring was cracked and uneven, slanting down to the left of the house.
A table sat against the wall in the far corner, slightly rusted tools and knives laid across it. Whips and old belts dangled off the edge; chains snaking out from the blood splattered walls.
Even I could still smell my fear.
They were softly gagging, Allison close to throwing up as she looked around, all of them mortified.
Derek and Peter were livid. They were the only ones who were shocked out of their horrified states to feel anything else. The two were breathing heavily, a slight growling coming from the two of them as their eyes flashed red and blue - respectively.
"I-It's ok. Really." I whispered. "It's not like I'm here anymore..."
My words didn't seem to help.
Turning my attention away from them, hoping to find something else to distract them, I found my things scattered around the room. Nothing was bagged, just thrown around carelessly, covered in dust and, what looked like, glass and cigarette butts.
Great.
"We'll do this a bit at a time." Derek hissed out, trying to calm himself down. "Pick something out, carefully shake it out and bag it. When the bag is full, take it to the car. Stiles is not to be left alone!"
I wasn't about to argue with that.
It took longer than I hoped for, trying to collect and bag my things. They were hidden behind so many boxes, boxes I never remembered seeing before, hidden in the shadows, it was unbelievable!
But, never once, did they leave me by myself.
By, just after, midday, we had everything packed and out of that house. We had managed to get through it without anything happening - no one got hurt, or anything. I had started to feel a little more relaxed.
Well, as relaxed as I could when near my Dad.
We had done one more sweep of the basement, making sure everything had been cleared out. Only when we were sure did we leave that room. To me, it was a great accomplishment, being able to go down to that room. Never, in all of my life, had I thought I'd be able to do it!
Yes, I had a few panic attacks along the way that may have attributed to our staying longer, but that was beside the point!
I wasn't going to say anything to Dad.
I wasn't going to say goodbye.
I wasn't going to say we had finished.
I was just going to leave.
That was hard to do when he was waiting by the front door.
"Oh, done so soon?" he asked. "And here I was thinking I could have some fun down there with you."
"In your dreams." Scott growled.
"Why, how did you know that?"
The manic grin on Dad's face was nothing compared to the one he got when he would cut into me. This grin was tame for him... Not that the others knew that.
"We're leaving." I said, barely able to keep my voice level.
"Are you now?" he chuckled. "Not going to stay for a drink?"
I shook my head.
"No? I thought I raised you with better manners." Dad sneered.
"You didn't raise me at all." I muttered.
Lack of brain to mouth filter.
It always got me into trouble.
I wasn't fast enough to avoid the fist flying at my face, nor were any of the others fast enough to stop it. The punch landed heavily on the left side of my face, my jaw and eye stinging.
The next punch I saw coming.
But it never landed.
Derek lunged for Dad, making the man stumble back slightly in surprise... It took all Peter and Boyd had to hold him back.
"You and your fag boyfriend get the hell out of my house!" Dad screamed, his hand curling around his gun.
Running forward, I grabbed Derek's arm, dragging him through the house as best as I could, the others following quickly. Derek battled against us the entire way, but I refused to relinquish my hold. I heard myself muttering to him, begging him to please just leave it; I couldn't be sure how much he actually heard.
That was when something flew past our heads, the object grazing my ear before it smashed on the wall behind me.
All of them reacted instantly, almost turning around to attack Dad.
Peter and Derek were almost far too gone.
I only just managed to get everyone out of the house, before they attacked Dad.
I couldn't stop apologising as we made our way to the car. I was shaking, close to crying... I couldn't stop myself. I felt so guilty, knowing I was the reason that had gotten them in such a state; knowing I was the reason they were there in the first place! If it hadn't have been for me, they would never have had to deal with any of it!
I practically piled them all into the car myself, pushing them through the only-just-open doors. I had been about to get in myself when I noticed something sitting on the grass veranda. It took me seconds to decide to go back to grab it, thankful that I had when I found it was a picture of my Mom and me.
The moment I picked it up, I was grabbed.
A fist had balled into the back of my shirt, all but throwing me back into the house. I heard shouts and screams behind me; I heard sirens in the distance... A door slammed behind me, but I heard it ricochet off of the wall instead of close. I tried to get away, of course I did! Any sane person would try to escape!
I just couldn't find my strength.
The only time the hand let go, I had been thrown down a steep set of stairs.
The room was cold, smelling metallic and stale.
No windows, only one door.
The flooring was cracked and uneven, slanting down to the left of the house.
A table sat against the wall in the far corner, slightly rusted tools and knives laid across it. Whips and old belts dangled off the edge; chains snaking out from the blood splattered walls.
Basement!
I tried to get up so I could run. I tried to do something, anything!
I was grabbed again before I made just one move.
The next thing I knew, I was chained to the wall by my neck, the cold metal tight on my skin. I grabbed the metal collar around my neck, pulling at it with both hands, trying desperately to get it off and away from me. I could hardly breathe! It seemed like the more I tried to get it off, the tighter it became.
"You really thought you'd get away that easily?" Dad laughed, fast walking to the table. "No. Not this time."
My heart stopped.
My hands stilled.
I turned my head slowly towards him, carefully getting up onto my knees.
This can't be happening again...
"D-Dad?" I whispered, my eyes wide.
"What have I told you about calling me that?" he growled, turning from the table with one of the leather whips gripped tightly in his hand. "You've relaxed far too much for my liking."
The next thing I felt was pain.
The whip had been snapped against my chest, curling around to attack my arm and part of my back. It was a pain I hadn't felt for months... I had forgotten how much it hurt.
I doubled over, gingerly clutching my arm.
I couldn't stop from shouting out.
The feeling burned through me, my blood rushing to the injured parts of my body.
Before I even had time to even try to recover, the whip hit down again, harder this time, right on my spine. My breath was knocked out of me, only a sharp inhale of pain making it past my lips.
My sight blurred as my eyes started to water. I could barely make out my own hand, it was so bad.
My hearing, on the other hand? Well, that was as sharp as ever. Which was why I heard the footsteps before Dad.
"I knew I should have killed you that day! At least then I wouldn't have so much of your blood staining these walls!" Dad yelled, cracking the whip again. "Killing you would have made my life so much easier! I suppose I just have to make up for that now."
"What the hell, John?!"
The voice came from the bottom of the stairs.
I felt the air around my still.
Hesitantly, I raised a hand and wiped the tears from my eyes, clearing them so I could actually see.
Dallas County Sheriff's Department were standing right there, staring, shocked.
Dad was arrested.
He had been stripped of his gun and badge; he had been arrested.
He was taken out of the house in handcuffs.
I had been led out by one of the Deputy's, walking slowly though the pain was starting to dissipate.
The moment I stepped outside, I found that the Pack, my Pack, had been cornered by other officers, not being allowed anywhere near the house... When they saw me, they practically screamed my name, all of them a mix of relieved, angry and worried. I wanted to run to them, probably just as they wanted to do the same to me.
But they were still being held back, whilst I was still finding it hard to walk. They could sense my pain.
When I was in reach, Derek was the first one to get to me, his arms gently encircling me. His chin rested on top of my head, my ear pressed to his chest. I could feel Derek's heart racing, beating so hard I thought it would break out of his chest...
It took seconds for the others to join in on the hug.
In that moment, surrounded by them all, I felt safe. I felt safe and happy and at home, something I hadn't felt in so many years.
I ended up sobbing into Derek's chest.
I felt such a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. People finally knew what my Dad had been doing to me. Finally, they were starting to question my record.
Finally they were starting to question.
I couldn't tell you how long we stood there for but, after a while, we all started to pull back from the hug - well, all but Derek who kept me as close to him as possible. I used the sleeve of my shirt to wipe away the tears, taking a deep breath to calm myself.
I had been about to suggest we leave when we heard the commotion.
I should have seen it coming.
It was obvious.
Of course Dad would get out of the handcuffs - he was, now formerly, a Sheriff for God's sake!
I watched as he ran off, some of the Deputy's running after him, trying to recapture him... He jumped over fences, he weaved between cars... He was one of the fastest people I knew, even with him being close to fifty.
"Why don't we get back to the hotel?" Peter coughed after Dad disappeared from sight. "We can go to the Department in the morning - give statements and such. Right now, I think everyone needs some time to wind down."
"That sounds great." I croaked.
With one more glance down the street, I felt my stomach churn slightly. Honestly? I wasn't sure if they were going to catch him. But, something I was sure about? I was grabbing my Mom's ashes before I left that house!
The next day - Thursday, July 10th - the first stop after we had all woken up and actually eaten breakfast, we made our way to the Sheriff's Department. We would have waited a little longer, maybe closer to lunch and eat out, but I couldn't stand the staring from some of the others in the hotel.
See, apparently, everything that had happened with my Dad had made the news, an APB out for his arrest.
It was only a twenty minute drive to the Sheriff's Department, but it was enough to get rid of the tension after all the staring. Just sitting in the vehicle, with my friends-turned-family, listening to music, helped me. I mean, sure, I wasn't one hundred per cent alright, who would be? But, with them, I was getting there and it wouldn't take too long.
The wounds on my chest, back and arm were still there. The one on my arm would soon disappear, but the ones on my chest and back would stay. It was strange, I still didn't understand why I had all these scars, considering what I was... The only thing I could think of was it was because I was a hybrid.
I was just hoping these would be the last scars I got from my Dad.
"At least we'll be going home soon." Isaac smiled. "Harley will probably be happy to have us home."
"Sam will probably be a bit pissed, though." Boyd chuckled.
"Oh, she'll get over it." Erica grinned.
I just laughed with them. Because it was true. Harley would love having us back; Sam would be pissed but, once she understood what had happened, she'd get over it. It just made me want to get home all the more. I wanted to be back in the familiar, comforting place I called home. I wanted to be back with the three we had to leave behind.
We were so close to being back.
I could almost touch it...
We were stuck in the Sheriff's Department for a few hours. I had to tell them everything from why and how everything with Dad started, right up to present day.
They were even making arrangements for my record to be expunged.
I was told it would, generally, take thirty days for a hearing date to be set, after a petition had been filed. Then, if it was granted, it could take up to a hundred and eighty days for agencies to destroy the records.
I was surprised by how nice they had all been. Not once did I get a dirty look; not once did I get a vague threat. They all seemed...sheepish? Was that the right word? I wasn't sure. I just knew they had all been kind of nice to me.
Still, I was more than happy when we finally got out. It wasn't even midday, but I just felt so tired.
That was probably why I had lagged behind a little, dragging my feet on the way to the car. Not that we'd be going back to the hotel. Actually, we were going to chance going out to eat. Against my better judgement, of course. I would have preferred going back to bed.
But then I looked at them all.
They probably didn't like being cooped up in a hotel, no matter what they said. So I ended up agreeing, albeit hesitantly. Sure, they all tried to say that they didn't mind going back to the hotel, but I was sure they were bored of it now.
That was how we ended up going into town, going to one of the nearest diners.
So far, no one there seemed to know who I was. They didn't stop and stare. They didn't whisper... So far, everything was going good.
Not that I could relax. There was always that possibility that someone was lurking within the shadows, waiting. There was always the fact that Dad was still out there, somewhere...
Now, everyone was eating, having a laugh. They all seemed to like the food, though we all agreed that the diners back in Beacon Hills were better. But that was our personal opinion, of course.
We couldn't have been in the diner for more than twenty minutes when I left the table. Usually, I never needed to use the bathroom when I went out anywhere, managing to hold it in until I got back home - or, in this case, back to the hotel. But, for some reason, I couldn't do that.
So, I excused myself from the table, going to the back of the diner where the toilets were.
I got in there, dealt with everything I needed to deal with.
I washed my hands.
I dried them.
I was about to leave, when I was grabbed from behind.
A cloth was placed over my nose and mouth, a strong scent invading my senses.
I tried to fight, but the longer the cloth was over my face, I could feel myself getting slower. Getting more lethargic.
Chloroform?
The last thing I saw was the outline of a figure in the mirror.
When I woke up, I was disorientated.
I didn't know where I was.
I didn't know what time it was.
My head hurt.
I felt so confused and weak.
It took a few minute before I could focus.
The first thing I noticed: I was strapped down to a bed. My wrists were chained down, lifted high above my head. My ankles were shackled together, a small length of chain attaching them.
The second thing I noticed: I was wearing nothing apart from my underwear. My shirt, my t-shirt, my jeans, my shoes...even my socks! Everything was gone apart from my boxer-briefs.
The third thing I noticed: the room I was in was very familiar. It was so familiar, but I just couldn't pinpoint it. Even the scent of the place sparked some familiarity, but I just couldn't connect the dots!
"Your awake." a voice said.
I froze.
My blood ran cold.
Every part of my body tensed.
"Zane?" I gulped, praying I was wrong.
Then his face appeared above mine, grinning down at me.
Dark red hair.
Violet eyes.
Tanned skin.
Yeah, that was definitely Zane.
"I told you it wasn't over, Babe." he told me, running a finger down the side of my face. "When I heard you were back in town, I just knew I had to act quickly."
I couldn't move.
I wanted, desperately, to just fight against him. I wanted to pull against the chains - I would be able to break them! But I couldn't move.
"You have no idea how much I wanted to play with you, before you woke up." he sighed. "But I knew I had to wait. I knew it would feel so much better when you were awake."
Zane moved.
He lifted his right leg onto the bed, moving it to one side of me. His left leg came up until he was straddling me, sitting on my knees to keep me pinned to the bed, his hands resting either side of my torso.
"L-Let me go." I whispered.
"Now why would I do that, Babe?" Zane chuckled. "I've finally got you where I want you. I can do anything I want to you, and you'd have to take it. Not that that's too much of a hardship. You'll love it."
I shook my head, harshly. No, I wouldn't 'love it'. I wouldn't even like it! Why would I?!
I didn't know what to do.
I didn't know how I'd be able to get out of the situation.
This was the first time Zane had ever chained me to something. Before, it was only Dad that had ever chained me to anything, never Zane... I couldn't say what gave him the idea; I couldn't say why now was the time he decided to try it. But, I could say for certain, that he had more of an advantage with me chained down.
"It's a shame really. It would have been nice to have all the different toys I wanted to use on you." Zane told me. "I suppose I can save those for another time, though."
Zane took one of his hands off of the bed, placing it on my chest. His skin was cold, freezing against mine. I tried to flinch away from him, but there was nowhere for me to go. Zane's smile just grew, his teeth showing as he started to move.
His hand moved over my torso, slowly running down my chest, drawing patterns on my stomach.
It kept moving until it reached my hip.
At that point, Zane moved his other hand, doing the exact same with that one as he had with the first, moving until it was also resting against my hip.
He slowly dragged his hands up and down my abdomen, his eyes locked onto that part of my body. He seemed entranced by his hands, by my skin.
"How can you be so scarred, but your skin still so smooth?" he muttered to himself. "It's like the scars aren't even there."
His hands dropped to my hips yet again, his finger tips playing with the edge of my underwear, his thumbs slowly stroking the fabric that covered the tops of my thighs, very close to where I really didn't want him to be.
"I wonder if your that soft in other places too." he smirked.
My heart rate spiked even more.
The next thing I knew, I had been flipped.
My face was pressed down into pillows, the chains connecting my wrists to the bed crossed. The metal dug into my skin; I could already start to feel blood starting to run down my wrists.
I could barely breathe. It felt like my throat was being crushed, just like yesterday. I mean, it was difficult to breathe anyway, what with the bruises still around my neck - this just made it worse!
I felt Zane's nails scrape over my back, hitting the whip marks that Dad had made. I couldn't stop the yelp that was wrenched from my throat.
Zane just laughed.
He seemed to get off on my pain.
Not that that was a surprise to me.
Zane just dug his nails harder into my back, drawing little beads of blood the further down he went.
The moment his nails reached the small of my back, he let his hands drop, the palms of his hands moulding over the cheeks of my ass.
The touch sparked disgust within me.
Something finally clicked and I tried to fight back.
I tugged against the restraints on my wrists, tried to squeeze out of them. I pulled hard, hoping that, if I did slip out of them, my elbow would fly back into his face.
I tried squirming out from underneath him, tried to throw him off of my legs. But he wouldn't budge... He just lifted a hand from my ass, gripped it in my hair and yanked until my head was pulled back painfully.
"Don't fight me, Babe." Zane hissed. "Don't make me get my lighter."
My eyes went wide.
I could feel my entire body shaking.
"Be a good boy now." he muttered.
Zane pushed my head back into the pillows, both hands back to my the band of my underwear. He hooked his fingers underneath the band, starting to pull them down, inch by inch.
There was nothing I could do to stop him.
I was helpless.
I had lost.
BANG!
The door burst open, rebounding off of the wall.
I felt the pressure of Zane being ripped off of me.
I heard the thud of a body hitting the ground, as well as the sound of many voices and feet running through a different door.
Derek's scent poured over me.
I was sitting in the back of the rental car, my clothes back on my body and Derek's leather jacket around my shoulders. My Pack gathered around the car in a loose semi-circle, Derek standing as close to me as he possibly could.
Zane had already been bundled into a police car, handcuffs now cutting into his wrists.
Apparently, he had been a person of interest for a long time.
Apparently, I wasn't the first person he done anything like this to.
He was wanted for drug possession and dealing.
He was wanted for GBH.
He was wanted for rape of minors and even those of age.
He was wanted for murder.
He was wanted for a boatload of things, many of them mainly involving minors, everything being spread across the States.
They wanted me to stand against him in a court of law. Because I was a victim, had been underage when it had all started, was one of the only victims still alive and sane after everything he had done, my testifying could be pivotal to the case.
I had given my statement to the officers there and then, just so I didn't have to stay any longer after that day. I wanted to leave as soon as physically possible.
It was only once the officers were a little while away that I asked them all how they had found me. They had explained how, when I hadn't come out a little under ten minutes, Derek had gone to find me. Obviously, I was nowhere in the bathroom, but the back door to the diner that only staff could use was wide open. They had all ran out of the diner - after paying, of course - and followed my scent all the way to Zane's door.
"H-How did you know it was Zane?" I asked, hunching further down into Derek's jacket.
"Recognised the scent. Don't meet many people that smell like narcotics." Derek replied, quietly. "Peter called the Sheriff's Department from the car."
I nodded, pulling the sleeve of the jacket back up my arm, to free my hand, dragging it gently down my face.
"I'm sorry that you all got dragged into this." I sniffed. "It's not fair to any of you."
"You stop that know. This is in no way your fault." Peter admonished. "We all knew the risks; we all knew who was here. We decided to come, not you."
I nodded again. I dropped my head down, staring at my knees, biting my lip as it started to wobble. It took seconds for arms to wrap around me, Peter crouching slightly to reach me and not hit his head on the car.
I was so happy we would be on our way home soon.
We were on the plane, on our way back to Chico Municipal Airport, at seven the next morning.
Yet again, everyone was asleep apart from Derek and I. I was already tucked into the Alpha wolf's side, his scent and the feel of him offering more comfort to me than anything else. He had been trying to get me to sleep for a little for hours, even when we were at the hotel... But I couldn't.
The nightmares had started again.
I was scared to close my eyes, scared of what would appear next.
I had ended up spending the night curled up next to Derek, not wanting to risk being snatched in the middle of the night if I was in bed alone. It was a stupid thought, but I couldn't get it out of my mind...
Derek hadn't minded, though.
"Everything will be alright." Derek murmured to me, turning his face down into my hair. "They're being dealt with. They won't be able to get you again."
"But Dad's still out there." I whispered, clutching onto his arm and pressing closer to him. "What if he comes back to the house? What if he tries to hurt one of you? What if he tries to take me again? What if-"
"Thinking about the 'what ifs' won't help, Genim. He can't hurt us and we won't ever let him hurt you again. I promise you, Gen - as long as I can help it, no one will ever hurt you again."
And I believed him.
It was so easy for me to believe Derek.
"Really?" I asked.
"Of course. Your special to me." Derek told me, hugging me to him a little tighter.
The last person to say something like that was my Mom. No one had said I was special, or anything of the like, to them since her... Yet here was Derek, this amazing man that I used to know as a child, this amazing man who has done so much for me in not even a year, saying that exact thing.
I wondered if he realised just how much his words meant to me.
I wondered if he realised how much everything he had done meant to me.
I wondered if he realised that he was just as special to me.
He probably didn't.
He probably didn't realise how much all of it meant to me.
But, one day, he would. I would make sure of it.
We got home a little after one in the afternoon.
I don't think words could describe how happy we all were to be back home.
We all grabbed our luggage out from the car, taking out the suitcases that we had packed all of my things into. Derek and Peter took the suitcases, Scott taking the bag with my clothes in. Apparently, because I was injured, I wasn't allowed to carry anything. Ever though I healed, just like them.
The only thing they allowed me to do was open the door. As soon as I had pushed it open, we were bombarded with a redhead, a blonde and a child.
Harley ran straight for me, his arms wrapping around me. He didn't run into me, didn't grab me as tight as he could have... He was careful - he already knew. Charlie was smiling at us, welcoming us back, though I could see a bit of frustration in her eyes. I knew she was annoyed at how we left, but I think she understood. Sam, on the other hand, as presumed, was pissed off. Her arms were folded over her chest, she was glaring slightly... She meant business.
"You and me have a lot to talk about." Sam told me. "What the hell were you thinking?!"
That was when I really looked up at Sam.
I don't know what she saw, but her mouth slammed shut, her teeth clacking together. Instantly, her body language changed - her arms dropped, her face evened out. She started to come closer, concern invading her scent.
"Stiles?" she whispered.
"Perhaps we should go inside." Peter mused.
Peter practically herded everyone into the house, gently pushing everyone in. We all put our stuff by the doors, kicking off our shoes and just reviling at being home again.
Whilst the Pack took Sam and Charlie into the kitchen, already quietly explaining to them what had happened back in Dallas, I just took out the one, small special box from my carryon bag, before taking Harley into the living room with me.
The kid bundled onto one of the couches with me, hugging himself to me. He was practically burying himself into my side as much as he possibly could. I wrapped my own arms tightly around him, pulling him up onto my lap.
Words couldn't express how much I loved being home!
"Will you be ok?" Harley muttered, tucking his head into my neck.
"I will be. It'll take some time, but I will be." I told him. "As long as I have you and all of them in the kitchen with me, I will be better than ok."
"Do you have to go back there again?"
I sighed, pulling him tighter against me, leaning my cheek against the top of his head.
"I do, Sweetheart. I have to go back next month." I admitted. "But it means I can make a very bad man go away for a very long time. And, hopefully, it means I can get my record expunged."
"Can I come? I like Sam and Charlie, I do, but I don't like staying here without you." Harley asked. "I don't have to go anywhere near the bad man."
"We'll see, Sweetheart. We'll see."
It was a few hours later, after Sam and Charlie had left for home, that everyone had piled into the living room, in their respective seats - Harley and I had moved to my, technically our, armchair after we had had lunch.
All of us were just so happy to be home; Harley was glad to have us all home.
We were all sitting there, talking quietly, just basking in the familiarity and safety of the four walls around us; of the scent of all of us together.
I felt more relaxed than I had in the past week.
It was then that my box was brought up in the conversation, all of them turning to look at the wooden thing that was a similar size as a hardback book, only with a little more height to it.
Shifting around Harley slightly, I picked up and opened the box.
"I hid it under the floorboards after I told Dad about me being gay. I didn't want him finding it and, you know, destroying them..." I told them. "Anything I thought was precious I put under there, so it was this box and a photo album."
Reaching into the box, I took out a gold locket.
"This was my Mom's. She gave it to me before she died..." I told them, opening it to show Harley before passing it around. "Dad gave it to her on their first wedding anniversary. Real gold."
Inside the locket was a picture of all three of us - Dad, Mom and me. The picture was from when I was nine years old, only a few weeks before she had died... In the picture, you couldn't even tell she had been sick.
The second thing I took out was a DVD in a small plastic envelope.
"A few months before she died, Mom got all our home videos put onto this DVD. Said she wanted to make sure our memories were preserved." I smiled. I haven't watched them since she brought the DVD home."
I put the DVD back into the box as the locket was handed back to me.
I closed the box again, placing it onto the table.
"I had wanted to grab them before I had left the first time, but I was in too much of a state to remember to grab them." I admitted. "I'm just glad Dad never found them."
Leaning back into the cushions of the armchair, I realised just how happy I was that I actually had all of my things; how happy I was that I had dealt with my business, even though some wasn't completely over yet. Sure, I wished it had all gone differently, but I was kind of glad I had gone, however strange that sounded.
Now, I just had to focus on moving on.
Well, until I had to go back, of course.
SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT, BUT I'M AT UNIVERSITY!
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Thanks a lot all of you XD