Chapter V: The Explanation

[Scott and Stiles in the Jeep on their way to finding the bullet]

"Scott."

"Yup?" Scott's voice radiated stress.

"You know when I joked about Emory being a werewolf?"

"Yeah? Don't tell me Derek bit her?" he said lightly trying to brighten the mood.

"Yeah, not really a joke anymore," Stiles grimaced with his hands on the wheel. "Her eyes glowed blue, man. Glowed. How many humans do you know that have glowing eyes?"

"Are you sure?" Scott was shocked. His throat seemed to close up. "Derek seemed to have no idea. When I talked to him about driving her home, he seemed to believe that I could her hurt. If she's a werewolf too then why would be worry about me hurting her?"

"I don't know, Scott," Stiles was sad rather than confused as Scott would have thought.

"Let's just worry about Derek," Scott said calmly. "And then we can worry about Emory after Derek doesn't die."

Stiles just nodded.

[present time: driving Derek home from the Animal Clinic]

"So, Emory," started Stiles. "Your eyes."

"We already covered it," said Derek simply.

For the second time that day, Stiles abruptly stopped the car. Luckily no cars were behind him.

"Everything?" Stiles' jaw dropped.

"No," Emory looked at Derek. "He said I was a werewolf like him. I then looked in the mirror and saw my eyes were blue or rather were glowing blue. Then Derek fainted."

"You didn't do the whole 'it's a gift' thing with her?" whined Scott.

"I am not sure it was a gift." Derek kept his eyes on Emory as well. "There might be a reason neither one of us knew she was a werewolf before her eyes changed color. She also never changed completely so we don't even know that she is a werewolf."

"Wait!" If Stiles hadn't already stopped the car, he would have slammed on the breaks again. "There are more than just werewolves?"

"Yes, you idiot," hissed Derek.

"Are you saying I'm some kind of supernatural beast?" Emory asked a little to violently. Derek looked as if he'd been slapped in the face.

"Not necessarily a beast," Derek changed his direction to Stiles. "Do you mind dropping Emory and I off and my house?"

"I will not be dropping you and Emory off anywhere?" Stiles returned. "Like I would ever hand her over to you for you to bite, murder, or seduce."

"Seduce?" both Emory and Derek questioned.

"Whatever." Stiles shook his head as if trying to clear his head of a painful mental image. "Get the main idea: you and my dear cousin, Emory, are not going anywhere together alone. Ever.

"Stiles," said Scott calmly. "Let them go."

"I will be able to figure out what she is quicker if its just the two of us."

"That doesn't even make sense," said Stiles. "It's still a 'no.' I am not having my only cousin become…" Stiles kept his eyes on the road.

"Emory," Stiles turned around from the passenger seat. "What do you want to do?"

"I…" Emory looked at Stiles. His distraught terrified her. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt the only family she had left. But she also needed to find out who she was. What she was. For herself. "I need to do this."

Without saying anything. Stiles started the car and drove straight to Derek's abandoned home. He kept his eyes straight ahead when Derek got out of the car. Emory slowly got out of the car. She walked over to the driver's side. She knocked on the window. Stiles rolled down the window.

"Please, Stiles," Emory sighed. "Look at me."

When he didn't, Emory took his chin in her hand and turned his head to face hers. She saw the tears streaming down his face.

"Stiles." In one movement, he got out of the car and embraced Emory in a rib-fracturing hug. He tucked rested his chin on her shoulder and wept into her hair.

They stood there for a few more moments until Stiles' weeping calmed down.

"Just be back tomorrow," he sniffled.

"Of course," she took his head in her hands and kissed him on the forehead. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

After Scott and sappy Stiles left, Derek and Emory entered the drafty house. The lack of power was evident when Emory entered and she couldn't see anything.

Derek turned around, eyes glowing.

"Step one, make your eyes turn."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that. Up until an hour ago, I didn't know anyone's eyes could glow."

"Well, there you go. Just get really angry."

Emory lifted an eyebrow.

"Okay," Derek let out the closest thing to a laugh he could probably make. "Close your eyes."

"Close them?"

"Yes. Close them. Now imagine having control over them."

"Having control I don't have?"

"And," Derek ignored her comment. "Having the control over whether what color they can be."

Emory focused. Control. Control. Control.

"Now open them."

Emory did. And there was Derek right in front of her. She looked around. She could see how the house was once magnificent. She left Derek standing by the front door and went to explore the house. She entered a room which she would guess would have been the living room. Floor boards were missing and the only furniture was the structure of a couch. She went back into the atrium where the grand staircase was.

She went to climb it when Derek grabbed her wrist.

"What do you smell?" He asked her.

Emory took in a whiff.

"Nothing," she breathed. "Except for dust, rotting wood, blood…" She turned to look at Derek.

"How can you stay here?" Images flashed across Emory's mind. Images of death, struggle, arson. "After all that's happened?"

"How do you know what happened?" Derek asked roughly.

"I just got images. Scenes. Is that normal when you smell things?"

"What kind of images?"

"Images of suffering. They weren't clear. I couldn't see any faces."

"Interesting."

"You are going to have to give me more than that," Emory whined. "What am I?" she asked more forcefully.

"I don't know." Derek sighed. "You are different from a regular werewolf. That much prevented Scott and I from smelling you. However, the fact that your eyes turn blue tells me something."

"What does it tell you?"

"I'd rather have you tell me that."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me about your parents."