ch 2. resolve
Malia bent down to tie her boots, her short hair sticking to her forehead. She was glad she cut it short. The long hair reminded her too much of her mom – her actual mom: feminine, nurturing, human. All the qualities that Malia herself wasn't – and would never be. The pain cut deep even though it had been years, even though she understood the circumstances more clearly now. Time doesn't heal all.
Her thoughts were disturbed – thankfully – by Braeden constantly clicking and checking her guns. She stood up straight and looked at her newest ally. She didn't know much about the U.S. Marshall, or if she even was one to be honest. But something about Malia's plight seemed to draw the aggressive – and, so, so hot – woman into helping her.
During the dull evenings in Stiles' bedroom, back when they were still friends – were we ever friends? she questioned, we never had the time to talk about anything that mattered, we wouldn't be like this with each other if we did – back then, Stiles used to fill her in with stories of the pack's allies, in the convoluted, rambling way that he was famous for. More often than not, Braeden's name would pop out almost every time there was a Hale situation. Mostly, Derek situations.
She often thought about how life would be if everything was normal – and better. Perhaps Derek would not have had to bear the burden of losing everyone around him – she briefly thought about Paige – first love: you remember what that's like? Malia thought about the time she overheard Theo and Scott at the clinic. She would never admit it, but Scott's response to the offhanded comment stayed with her for days. She believed that losing in love had to come with being an alpha. Perhaps Derek would have calmed the storms in his heart with Braeden and her all-knowing ways of persuasion and self-defense, just like Scott seemed to balance himself with Kira these days. Tough against tough; noble against noble. Maybe opposites were overrated.
Perhaps Peter would have been a better everything – a better uncle, a better alpha, a better dad. She could see a lot of herself in Peter: rough, unbounded, angry. But she knew his weakest link when she didn't even know hers. He would vehemently deny it if she ever told him, closing off his demeanor even further, but she knew how much he cared for his nephew. Peter was ruled by his self-preservation instincts – but the driving force had always been Derek. She didn't know her cousin much – hell, she didn't know anybody much; little outsider that she was. But she knew, she felt, the connection. Even at their worst, Peter loved Derek.
The thought made her heart stop for a tiny bit. She was jealous. She was truly a little outsider, wasn't she?
"Hey, if you feel weird about this, we can stop. You know that, right?" Braeden's voice shook her out of her morose monologue. She stood in front of the tall Hale girl; one eyebrow tilted slightly. Malia could see the faded slashes on the skin of her neck, and she understood that what she had to do was way bigger than her menial wishes for normalcy. When life gives you the Desert Wolf, you kill it before it kills you.
"I want to do this," she resolved. The two women met each other's gaze and Braeden knew she was bullshitting. "No, you don't."
Malia opened her mouth to defend herself.
"No, you don't, and you won't. We will go out there today and talk to him. I'll give you that. But anything that happens after – it's my problem." Braeden cut her off, walking back towards the dining table which had a heavy bag lying atop it.
"What? No. No. The Desert Wolf is going to kill me. I have to be the one to stop her. Braeden, this ends with me." She paced to the other end of the table, palms resting on top of it.
Braeden cocked an eyebrow at her wordlessly.
"Please," she added in a calmer tone. Damn. Braeden would've been good for Derek. Tough against tough; calm against storm.
"It's insane. You're really want blood on your hands? Kill your family?"
"She's not family. And I already killed mine because of her" she gritted out. She had always wanted to ask Peter what made him be with such a merciless psychopath. But engaging in a heart-to-heart with Peter was never an option; and it's not like she had much of a leg to stand on anyway.
Braeden simply shrugged back in response, seemingly deciding to end the conversation then as she picked up the bag and started walking out of the cheap motel room she had booked. "Let's go. We need to be quick if we want anything out of him."
Malia pressed her lips together; unhappy with the response. She needed to convince her. She followed her out of the room, locking it behind her, and took out her phone from her pocket.
She sent out a short text: I'm going to talk to him. I need you at the clinic tonight. No pack. She meant what she said. This was going to end with her.
Theo's mind was racing a mile a minute since the morning. His conversations with Malia had been tense since the past few days. His plan wasn't going his way either thanks to his imbecile pack of misguided teenagers. This was not good at all, and he needed to find a way to fix this.
"Look, I don't know what's going on with you, but if you want me to believe that you're in the pack, I need to be able to trust you," he gritted out sharply at Hayden. They were standing in their make-shift den in the tunnels. The rest of them stared at the two, curious and defeated. Curious because they had no idea what their alpha planned to do next – and knowing him, whatever it was, wasn't going to be good. Defeated because they had no idea what their alpha wanted out of them – everything seemed to fail, and either he was way in over his head dealing with the beast, or he simply couldn't trust them enough to help execute whatever it was that he wanted.
Hayden resisted rolling her eyes, but looked sideways at the wall. She felt like a teenager being scolded by her parents for sneaking out with her boyfriend. "You can trust me."
He stared at her for a hard minute before speaking, "I better. Because you're going to be the zoo-keeper. Make sure our little animal doesn't wander off."
His phone buzzed then. He read the text quickly and inhaled deeply. Maybe this could work after all. "Stay here," he ordered Hayden. Nodding his head at the rest, he walked out, his little pack trailing behind.
"Where are we going, Theo?" Josh asked, receiving a glare from Tracy. He thought it was fucking hilarious that she wanted to be the Harley to his alpha's Joker. The guy killed his fucking sister. You can't seriously believe this has a happy ending, he asked her once.
Theo paused his movement, turning his head slightly, and smirked. "To catch a blind alpha."
Scott breathed heavily, words struggling to come out in full sentences as he glanced at his best-friend beside him who looked at him quizzically. "I knew, sooner or later, one of us was going to get a little too much blood on our hands," he confessed.
His strongest asset had shattered ever since Theo entered into their lives; and so did his confidence. His pack. His family. The only things that were important to him had broken all due to a few lies set up by Theo. Yet Scott placed a major chunk of the blame on himself – like always. He should've been a better alpha, he should've seen it coming, he should've listened to his best friend.
Losing a member of your pack felt like losing a limb – and he knew how decapitated he felt when that happened. He lost his entire pack and he died in return. I should've seen it coming.
Stiles opened his mouth to retaliate, to offer words of assurance, but somewhere deep down, he knew that it wouldn't be of use: Scott would always place the burden of failures on his own shoulders, and Stiles wasn't sure if their friendship was the same as it was before to alleviate a bit of his best friend's burden.
"I half-thought it was going to be Malia," Scott continued, half-jokingly.
Hearing about his ex-girlfriend's plan to kill her mother soured Stiles. Shrugging back, he quipped, "Well, she definitely seems like she's working on it." Scott had told him how he smelled Braeden's motorcycle outside Malia's old home. Stiles knew that Malia had been putting up a false bravado when she erased the name from his board. He had wanted to probe her for more details, but their relationship had never been built on care. He helped her stay human, she helped him forget Lydia. Stiles wasn't blind to Lydia's growing attraction to the new Deputy, and he didn't feel like competing with a guy who was literally hot as hell. It was what it was.
Scott, on the other hand, was worried. He cared about Malia. He knew that she was way in over her head with the Desert Wolf. He knew she needed someone to talk to – and if she didn't want her alpha's help at the moment, he would help her as her friend.
Malia growled in frustration, shutting the drawer loudly. This was bad. Scott would never forgive her. Well, he definitely would, but she didn't want to disappoint him in any way. Anyone else and she wouldn't have given it a second thought. But there was a reason why he became a True Alpha: he drew in people through the power of his soul and she'd be damned if she numbed even a tiny part of his soul through her actions – apart from sleeping with Theo, obviously, but she believed she had that covered.
"Can't find him, can you? Probably don't even know where to start."
She jumped slightly. Sneering back, she said, "I didn't call you here so that you can gloat. How'd you know about Deaton anyway?"
Theo circled around the bed, smirking back on purpose. "I have my ways."
"It's the Desert Wolf. I'm going to kill her." She felt like she had to convince herself more than him.
He wasn't done gloating though. The power rush of knowing that he was so close to where he wanted to be rendered him into this cocky state of wanting to push her buttons. She had been so out of it the past few days – and he wanted to punish her: punish her for not being his, punish her for being against them. "Let's be honest – you wouldn't," he shrugged, and then, "he's probably already dead. I wonder what's gonna happen when Scott realizes that it's your fault?"
Ding-ding, the winning shot. And, if looks could kill, he'd be a dead bastard now. Malia snarled at him loudly, eyes glowing yellow, and fangs piercing out, ready to kill. She pounced at him wildly, grabbing him in a choke-hold against the wall. "Maybe I should kill you."
He let out a chuckle, teeth baring. He's enjoying this too much. "You want to, but you won't. You like me too much. You fuck me too – "
He didn't get to finish the rest. Before he knew it, he felt his jaw pretty much break. He was relentless. Smirking even harder, he tasted blood as she pushed him on the floor, wincing at every blow she threw at him.
Malia seethed; she knew it had been his plan to rile her. But she didn't want to stop. Braeden's doubts, Scott's offer to help, her own anger at constantly being two steps behind – she was going crazy, and she needed this outlet. It wasn't her fault Beacon Hills didn't offer MMA classes.
Theo decided he allowed her to wind down enough. "Look, I can help you find them. Deaton and the Desert Wolf," he coughed, meeting her gaze.
Her eyes cooled back down to its normal color, but she continued to keep him pinned beneath her. "How?"
"There is a way. But I'm only telling you if you let me come with."
"No. There's no way. Braeden is coming with me." Malia ground out.
He was internally surprised by the information of her new ally. He thought for a minute, looking coolly into her eyes. Minor glitch, but lesser the people beside Scott at the end of the day, the better, he resolved. Slowly moving his right hand from where it was on the floor to rest on her thigh, he stroked her skin softly. "Convince her, Malia, and I'll let you kill her."
She exhaled heavily, determined.