Chapter 27: Disconcerting Formalities Part 1

Melanie's stop home was to be a short one; she would let Nova out use the bathroom, get her bearings, and then go straight to Stiles's place to share about what she saw regarding Derek and they could come up with a really good plan. But on her way out she almost ran right into her parents who rushed in as if a monster was hot on their tail.

She snorted; there may as well be. Not just one monster existed, but two. Both driven by revenge and both with insatiable desires to see the world burn to the ground. A fact that wasn't lost on her; it was fitting considering the history between the two groups. But that was the thing about wildfires, it didn't matter who set the blaze when it got going.

As Melanie chewed on a soft cookie—a treat whipped up in a moment of puzzling distraction to be frank—she studied her mother. Her mother fiddled with her treat, creating an ever-growing pile of crumbs on her plate. Every now and then Arabella would pause, sigh, and then she'd lick the melted chocolate off her thumb.

"I'm glad you're home." Melanie was the first to speak. The quiet words she uttered may as well have come out like a bang with the way her mother flinched. Had she expected something else? For Melanie to scream at her? Unload all her grievances and frustrations in one go? To thrash around until all energy left her and she fell to the floor in an empty heap? She'd thought about it – each reaction sounding more enticing than the last – but the overwhelming need to hug her mother pushed everything else aside.

Actually doing it was the problem, being that the Crowe women immediately went to separate corners of the kitchen as Laurence went around making sure the home was secure. Not that he needed to – the minute Melanie returned home she travelled the same path he did, glanced out the same windows for as long as he did, and checked, double-checked, and triple-checked the locks on the doors like he did. But she knew why he did it. It got him away from them, away from the silence. Lucky bastard.

They loved each other but they didn't always understand each other. Arabella tried hard to keep a restraining hand on Melanie's shoulder whilst Melanie constantly struggled to be let free. One wanted to protect, the other wanted freedom. One preferred caution, the other lived by spontaneity. It wasn't that they weren't close, it was that they were different sides of the same coin; constantly flipping until the lines blurred and where one ended and the other began wasn't definable. And some things just needed a solid definition.

Arabella dropped the remaining bits of cookie onto the plate and pushed it aside. She let out a long breath and grabbed a nearby napkin, twisting it around her fingers so hard that rips and tears appeared in the thin fabric. With newly-clean hands she shoveled them through her unusually unkempt hair, rubbed them down her neck, and then clasped them together. Fingers laced, she lifted her hands to her mouth, a far away look settling in her eye.

Plump lips pressing together, Melanie sat back and waited. And waited. And waited. She counted every steady beat of her heart. Had her mother not heard her? Or was it that she did? She swallowed, wincing at the rush of sugar slamming into her. A sensation that once picked up her spirits let it slip through its fingers and smash right into the ground. She swiped her tongue against her lower lip and cleared her throat. "Mom?" She tried, the uttered word a soft whisper.

Her eyes flickered down to her daughter's face and they held each other's gaze. Arabella dropped her hands and, for a moment, they hovered in the air as if she didn't know what to do with them. Then she reached out and grasped Melanie's in hers. Melanie let out a breath in a loud woosh and a sad smile etched its way across Arabella's otherwise blank features.

"I'm glad to be here," she finally stated, her voice holding onto a rasp Melanie only heard when she was ill. A proper sound, then, considering the circumstances, but even so it made Melanie's heart wrench.

"Are you sure?" The minute the words left her mouth, Melanie's lips curled inwards. She bit down, applying pressure until she couldn't hold onto the pain. It wasn't enough punishment. She deserved more but, short of causing even worse physical harm to herself, that was all she could do.

"Yes, honey. Of course." Arabella squeezed Melanie's hands and then brought them up to her mouth, kissing her knuckles like she used to do when they were scraped or when she pretended to eat them just to make her daughter laugh. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

Melanie nodded. She took the apology though, deep down, she felt that there should be more things to be sorry for. Sorry that her mother felt that she had to hide what she was going through, sorry that she scared her, sorry for abandoning her, sorry for pushing her away. Sorry for being so distant. But she'd take tangible distance over the alternative. She'd seen the alternative, felt its painful claws digging into her heart if she let her mind wander to the past too long. And while she's become accustomed to it, she didn't exactly seek it out. Masochism wasn't appealing to her.

"What are we going to do?"

Arabella blinked and leaned back in her chair. She rubbed her thumbs over the back of Melanie's hands and twisted her mouth to the side. "I don't know," she admitted after a stretch of silence.

She wanted to scream "how can you not know? You're the adult! Adults know everything! Tell me what we're going to do! Tell me!" but she quelled that rising bubble. "Can…can I do something?" Are you sure I didn't already do something?

"No, no." Arabella shook her head. "There's nothing you can do."

"Are you sure?" Melanie sat up straighter in her seat. Her eyes drifted around the kitchen, one that was usually spotless but held a pile of unwashed dishes in the sink and a smattering of unopened mail on the island. "Maybe something around the house. I can…cook more often. Do more laundry. I know you hate how I leave stuff piling up." Her mother's eyebrow twitched in the corner but still she remained silent. Melanie pressed on. "Maybe…maybe you can help me pick out something to wear. To the formal, I mean. I know it's last minute – didn't really have a lot of time to think about what to wear, with everything going on. But…but now you get to doll me up like you've always wanted." If we make it. She tried a smile, even threw in a little laugh. It fell flat.

Heavy silence ticked on by until, finally, her mother spoke. "Melanie…" Arabella pulled her hands out of her daughter's tight grasp. Melanie's fingers briefly curled against the empty space, grasping the cool air between her fingers. "Just…stop." Her mother's voice shook. It was fragile, like cracked china. Melanie held her breath, as if any extra sound, even as light as a sigh, would have her shatter. Arabella leaned back in her chair, arms crossing over her chest, slender fingers gripping on the fabric of her arms as if anchoring herself. Her tongues swiped across her cracked, bottom lip. "This is my fight. My fault. Don't…don't worry about me. …I don't deserve it."

Melanie recoiled, flinched as if she'd been physically struck by her mother's words, tone, and rigidity of her stare. She slipped her hands from the table and held them close to her body as she brought her knees up to her chest, tucking herself into a ball, shrinking. She brought her thumb up to her mouth and bit down on the corner. The space between them cracked and grew, a gulch becoming a crevasse in the blink of an eye. Each trapped on the other side, not knowing if it were better to risk the jump or to start the slow but treacherous descent. Standing still was safe.

"I love you," Melanie whispered. She had to try, at least. Just in case.

Arabella's lips quivered in the corners and then she pressed her lips together. "I love you too," she replied. "I want you to know that. Okay? I love you."

Footsteps creaked from the other side of the house followed by rhythmic jingling Laurence sauntered into the kitchen with Nova on his heels. Laurence stopped in the doorway, his eyebrows lowering and his eyes narrowing as they shifted back and forth between his wife and daughter. The tension in the room, palpable at best, had in him its tight hold just for a moment before he continued. Nova had trotted past him, sniffing around Arabella's chair looking for scratches. Her father looked much wearier than Melanie had ever seen him.

He took the phone out of its nearby cradle and extended it to Arabella. She merely glanced up at him. "Call Alicia," he stated, waving the phone around. Melanie's lips pursed at the mention of Erica's mom. How much did she know? Did her mother tell Mrs. Reyes everything…like she told Erica? Was she in danger too? Her head pounded. What happened to the days when the only thing she had to worry about was whether or not she made the lacrosse team? It was amazing how a short month could shift into one big blur.

"Trying to get rid of me?" Arabella asked, her words a rare off-color feat of being simultaneously wry and dry.

"I'd be lost without you," Laurence replied so earnest, as if the sentiment was etched on his heart. He leaned over and kissed the top of his wife's head, gently caressing her cheek with his free hand. It was then Melanie noticed the black bag dangling in her father's hand.

Her body jolted. Wait… "Are…are we leaving?" What kind of trick was life playing on her? Sure, she'd considered leaving herself but now that her father had come to the same conclusion, she wasn't sure it was a sound idea anymore.

Laurence sighed and crossed his arms. "I'd thought about it. But leaving would only cause bigger problems."

If there were any problems bigger than a psychotic hunter running around along with an alpha werewolf that had a strange fascination with the teenage population of Beacon Hills, she'd like to see it.

"Then what's the plan?" Melanie asked. Neither of her parents said a word; they looked at each other in the way parents did when they had a full-on silent conversation. A conversation without her. Like always. Her fingers curled inwards, digging into her palm, and then her fist struck the table. Her parents jumped. "Stop it! I can't take it anymore! The secrets and the hiding! How's…how's that going to help anything? How are we going to be able to help people if we can't even talk to each other? Huh?" Neither of her parents said anything. She sucked in a breath. I want it to stop. Now. Right now. Doing nothing. Not talking. Not sharing. Not being on the same page. I want to do something. But if we're going to do something about it, we're going to do it together. Okay?" She bit her lip, shifting her attention from the rage that licked inside her like flames to the pain by her mouth.

Her mother's fingers drummed against the phone in her hand. Her father rubbed her chin, the sound of stubble grating against his palm magnified in the still silence. He parted his lips and cleared his throat. "Fine, then. Let's start talking."

Melanie nodded. "Okay." She held her father's gaze for a moment and then cleared her throat. Where to start, where to start. With the weird—dreams? visions?—things that she'd been seeing? With the way she was able to see what others were seeing? With the Argents? With the Alpha? Her eyes swung over to her mother and the first question came right to mind. "What are we going to do to protect Mom?" At her parents' inquisitive expressions, she continued, "Kate threatened her. Said if I don't help her she'd make sure Mom leaves the hospital in a body bag." Laurence's lips twitched in the corner but he got his face under control in an instant. "But…but this could work! She doesn't know that Mom left the hospital, so she doesn't have anything over us, right? It's not a big lead but—"

"That might be all we need," Arabella said. They looked at her. She tapped the end of the phone against her mouth, a faraway look had settled into her eyes. It didn't match the conviction in her words.

Laurence shook his head. "I'm not letting you get involved."

Her eyes were the first to move in his direction, her head following at a slower pace. Her eyebrows lifted. "Good thing I'm not asking for your permission."

"Honey, they already have a target on your back!"

"And yours and my daughter's. I'm not just going to sit around let them do whatever they like to my family." Her eyes drifted down to the ring on his finger and back up to his face. "'Til death do us part, right? Unless you don't plan on living up to that vow."

"Oh, I do, but I always expected it to be when we were ninety."

"Well life is speeding up that clock so you don't exactly have a choice." His lips pressed into a line. Arabella stood and reached out to him, grasping him by the forearms. Her head tilted back as she looked up at him. "I may be your wife but I'm also your partner. We're in this life together. And we'll exit it together if we have to."

He didn't reply. He was probably thinking the same thing Melanie was, a horrid fleeting thought that highlighted her past hospital stay. She knew better than to speak her thoughts aloud. Laurence leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled her into a tight hug. The one Melanie used to witness all the time as a child; the kind where love permeated the room and she felt it all the way down to her toes. The kind that she spied around corners, giggling along with Mollie as they promised to find people that look at them the same way Arabella and Laurence looked at each other.

"Have I ever told you you drive me crazy?" Laurence asked after a few seconds of ticking silence.

"All the time. …Hopefully now it's for a good reason." He didn't miss the tinge of sadness that wrapped around her words if his kiss to the tip of her nose was of any indication. Neither did Melanie.

"It's always been for a good reason. That's not gonna stop now." He caressed her face and she leaned into his palm.

Melanie watched them, really got a good look at them. Not just as her parents but as people, a filter she'd never seen them through before. The two people who seemed to always be on the right track, have all the answers, know what to do, but now here they stood raw, exposed, scared; utterly human. With their own lives and goals and hopes and dreams. And they were willing to risk it all for her, without a second thought. She bit her lip. No, not again. She couldn't lose more people she cared about. And then it hit her like a bolt of lightning.

"Okay, so…so, I have an idea." She licked her bottom lip and pushed out a calming breath as a horde of frogs started leaping around in the pit of her stomach. "I have an idea. I…I have an idea and it's a little crazy and…and it might not work but—"

"Stop." Laurence held out his hand. Her unuttered words balanced on the tip of her tongue. "You have an idea. Full stop. You're not at school, Mel. You're not in mixed company. You're with us. We love you. Stop cheating yourself out of your confidence."

She spluttered, words jumbling up in her throat in an attempt to respond but nothing came out. Her lips clamped shut and a blush appeared on her cheeks as she hung her head, her hair curtaining around her face. She managed to utter a quiet but heartfelt, "Thanks". She pushed her hair out of her face and regained her composure. "I have an idea," she stated, keeping her voice firm, "but you'll have to trust me."

"Done," her mother replied, the single word slipping out before Melanie had even finished her sentence. At the surprise appearing on her daughter's face she continued, "We're family. We'll do this together or not at all."

"Are you sure? Considering—"

Arabella glared. "I may be sick but I'm not invalid."

"I was going to say considering you hadn't even heard my idea yet." Melanie sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "Kate doesn't want you. Or Dad. She wants me. Specifically. I don't know why yet but…that's what I want to figure out. The only way I can do that is if…if I'm on her side."

"What do you mean?" Laurence asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I'm going to give myself up to the hunters."

"No."

"But Dad—"

"No."

"Dad, what other options do we have? Go ahead, tell me."

"Melanie—"

"None of us asked for this. None of us. Scott and Stiles went into the woods just to find a stupid dead body but Scott wound up something he never asked to be. He got pulled into this stupid fight all because he became something he never wanted to be. They made that decision for him. They want to kill him because of it. Stiles and Allison and Lydia and Jackson have targets on their backs all because the Alpha wants Scott in his pack and he keeps refusing. They didn't do anything! Scott was there for me when I needed him, now I can return the favor. And maybe, finally, make up for what I've done."

"Melanie, what happened with Mollie wasn't your fault!"

"Maybe." They could tell her that all she wanted and her brain accepted that answer but her heart wouldn't let it go. Because of what she was her best friend was dead, even if she had no conscious hand in it. It made no difference to the shame and guilt that attached to her like barbs, ripping her apart when she tried to remove it. "But if I stand by and just let the hunters do what they want, when I can do something this time, then that will be my fault. And I can't live with that."

Neither of her parents said a word. They shifted their weight, cleared their throats, and a quiet sort of agreement settled in their faces. Melanie's mind was made up; there was nothing they could do to change it. She didn't have control over what happened before but, damn it, she was going to take control now. Like hell she'd just let the hunters make her decision for her. Using her mother as their pawn? She'd make sure it was the last thing they ever did to her family.

"Okay…if this is going to happen, I need to train you. There's not much time but you need to be able to defend yourself," Laurence said. He glanced at the windows in the kitchen, studying the slowly dying sunlight that filtered in through the bright blue plaid curtains flanking the glass. "Honey," he said, turning to his wife, "you still need to call Alicia and I need you to grab the map from upstairs."

Arabella nodded. She hesitated, her body twitching as if deciding whether to stay or go. Her lips pressed into a line and then she rounded the table and leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of Melanie's head. Her once rapidly beating heart stilled and peace, like a warm steady stream of water, trickled down her head, slid past her neck, rounded her shoulders, and made its way down to her feet. This was what she had to do, she was sure of it.

"I'm sorry." Melanie looked up when her father spoke; her fingers fumbled with a cookie like her mother had minutes before. Or, half a cookie; the other half had broken apart and landed on the table.

"For what?"

"For not telling you everything. I should have a while ago."

Melanie shook her head. "Whether you told me or not, I don't that that would've stopped anything."

"Still. Teenagers shouldn't be involved in this."

"I get the feeling they don't care about how far in life we've come." Melanie put down the cookie she held and looked up at her father; her sky-blue eyes misting. "I wanted to run away, you know."

"Wouldn't blame you if you did, kiddo," he knelt by her side and pulled her into a hug, "wouldn't blame you if you did." She felt the love in his embrace; it eased and calmed her racing thoughts. A nice reprieve at least for a moment.

Once out of his hug, she brushed the tears away from her eyes. She hummed as her eyes rested on the bag that still sat on the table. One she'd seen perched atop the highest shelf in her parents' closet, one she spent many years wondering what was in it. Presents? Family heirlooms? Candy? Either way, any time she brought it up they would shush her and change the subject, say that it was for 'adults' and that she would come to learn what was in the bag at the right moment.

"What's that for?" She used her chin to point towards the bag.

"This?" Laurence lifted the bag, as if he were about to do a bicep curl. The contents in the bag shifted around, teetering from side to side due to the weight of the contents inside. "This is for your mom."

"What does Mom need it for?"

A proud smile cut through the weariness in his eyes. "What, you think she can't defend herself?"

As if on cue, Arabella came back into the kitchen with a large map in her hands. She unfolded it on the now cleared table, using the cookie plate to keep one side open while she held out the other. Melanie squinted at the paper, her eyes following the colored lines and squiggles on it until it clicked. "That's the Beacon Hills Preserve."

"That's where we're going to meet the hunters," Arabella clarified. "And hopefully get all this settled."

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Laurence asked. Melanie looked up, noting that he was indeed speaking to her.

"Positive," Melanie replied.

"You don't want to let Scott and Stiles in?"

She shook her head. "They'd only try to stop me." Plus, if they can look for a dead body without her, she can leave another one there without them. Maybe she had been in a rush to tell them what happened to her and what she had been told about her own abilities before, but keeping them at arm's length now would only help them in the end. The less they knew, the better. She wasn't going to have them go charging into this, effectively serving Scott and Stiles up like pigs to a slaughterhouse. Her fate may be laid out for her but that didn't mean she wouldn't be kicking, screaming, and digging her heels in along the way. "What makes you think they'll be there, Mom?"

A solemn look crossed her features. "Trust me…they'll be there," Arabella stated. She leaned over the map and, as she did, her shirt rode up. Melanie's head cast to the side when she spotted a mark on her mother's torso. She'd never known her mother to have a tattoo, let alone be the sort of person to even think about getting a tattoo. She didn't have time to ponder it or the strange, spiral-shaped mark emblazoned near her mother's hip bone because in the next second her mother stood, and her shirt covered it once more.

They went over their plan many times, enough for each of them to know their parts and to perfectly recite a quickly patched together backup plan just in case something failed. Their voices were low, hushed, flat. Because if any of them leaked emotion, if any of them felt something, it would be too hard to go through with their plan. But it had to be done.

And as Melanie and her father descended the basement stairs to begin her training, despite the thick, heavy cloak of dread and fear that pulled down on her shoulders, excitement bloomed within her.


Hello, friends! Yes, it is true that there's a new chapter to read! Originally this was going to be one long chapter but the longer it became I realized it needed to be split up to be more manageable so here's part one of three! I would also like to say that the reason this chapter took me so long to post was because, for a while, my heart wasn't in it. So I took some much needed time away. But now I'm back! If there is anyone still reading, if you could be so kind as to leave a review I'd appreciate it! Otherwise, I still have a lot of Melanie's story to tell and I can't wait for you all to see it.

I know there are no canon characters in this chapter and I hope it doesn't deter some of you. Now you can see a bit more how the Crowe family works and their relation to one another and the supernatural world. All three of them are being a bit shady aren't they? Hint hint.

So, I hope you all enjoyed this! If this is your first time reading, your second time, or the chapter you've been waiting on baited breath for please leave me a review with your thoughts. I accept constructive criticism as well. The next chapter won't take as long to post, I promise. Also, happy belated fourth birthday to Underneath it All! It turned four on October 30th! I had planned to get this story updated then but, well, you know. If you'd like to chat more about this story you can send me a PM here or find me on tumblr (ceruleanmusings). Happy reading!

~Musings

P.S. If anyone is curious about the Mel/Erica vs Mel/Isaac poll on my page, the end results were Isaac with 14 votes at 48%, Erica with 12 votes at 41%, and Can't Decide with 3 votes at 10%.