I could hear the shakiness of his voice as he teetered on the edge of the seat, his eyes locked on the house in front of him.

He then threw the door open and sprinted toward the house.

I dropped out of my seat and shut the door before I ran after him. I watched him throw the front door open and run inside.

The door swung from the impact, almost slamming back into me. I pushed it open and trotted inside. The front hall was empty, no one in site. I sat the files down on the side table, looking around cautiously. "Derek?" I whispered and made my way into the living room. My footsteps sounded like drums in the silent house, accompanied by the bass guitar of my heart in my chest. My eyes landed on a crumpled piece of paper that was thrown on the table. I reached down and grabbed it, the red ink reminding me of the crude newspapers I once burned. Scribbled across the paper was:

a little gift for you wolf boy

I stared at the note, studying the harsh words that were written. I could practically hear the sarcasm rolling off the words. I let the paper fall back onto the table.

That's when I heard it. The ache of old wood. The low groan of it being stressed.

I held my breath and followed the noise into the kitchen. I froze, my hand covering my gaping mouth as I stared at what had become of my kitchen.

Twine was tied around one of the low hanging beams, purple flowers scattered here and there across the rope. The rope hung down and wrapped around the neck of the female werewolf I was trying to help. The twine was wrapped around her throat several times, a black substance seeping through the holes of the rope.

Cora's neck was hanging limply, her hair thrown forward. Her hands dangling by her sides, covered in burns and wounds that had to have been done by experienced hunters. She was pale, her skin devoid of life. Cuts covered this pale skin, some of the deep ones covered by the pajamas that she had wore. The purple t shirt was a cruel reminder of how young and innocent she was. The fabric was lost in the rips and strips that were torn into it. The only movement her body held was the slight sway of her limbs from the banister and the light drip of black blood from her lips.

I followed the drop of black substance as it fell down onto the tile, my eyes stopping on the form on the ground.

Derek was kneeled on the floor, his head tipped up as he stared at what had become of his sister. He was still, his limbs tense but unmoving. He didn't utter a word or any syllable for that matter. He simply sat there.

I stepped forward, my hand hovering over his shoulder for a split second before I gripped onto the fabric there.

He seemed to slump down further, his shoulders sagging and his head almost falling forward.

I dug my hand into his shoulder, steadying him. "Derek?" I whispered, my thumb rubbing circles on his arm.

He didn't respond to my touch, but I could see the shaking start. At first it was just a slight twitch in his arm, but eventually his whole body was trembling, his eyes still glued on his sisters hanging form.

I had to get him out of here and away from Cora's lifeless body. I slid in front of him, my hand moving from his shoulder to his face. My fingers drummed against his skin, my eyes taking in his face.

He was ghost white, his skin almost matching Cora's pale face. His dull eyes were still aimed upwards. The light that I had become used to disappeared, now replaced by a lifeless stare. He looked hopeless. Not like a werewolf that was wronged, but like a brother that had his heart ripped out. His lips parted and he began mumbling.

It took me a few seconds to make out what Derek was saying.

"...It's my fault. I told her I wouldn't leave again and I left her. I left her to die. It's my fault," he whispered, his voice low.

It reminded me of how he used to be, before I earned his trust, before he opened up to me. "Derek this is not your fault. None of this is your fault," I mumbled, my thumb stroking the skin on his cheek.

He finally tore his eyes away from his sister's body and found mine. His forest eyes seemed to clear, the fog slightly diminishing as his irises traced the lines of my face. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words seemed to get caught in his throat.

I stood up and pulled Derek up with me.

He seemed to moved with mechanical movements, his limbs dragging as I guided him out of the room.

I had to take care of what happened, but I didn't want Derek to see anymore than he absolutely had to. I kept that in my mind as I led his body up the stairs and into my room.

He didn't object when I led him to the bed, but he didn't seem to muster up and kind of emotion. His face was blank, his eyes staying on me as I laid down on the bed. I pulled him down beside me.

He curled in on himself, his hand digging into the pillow roughly. His eyes lingered on me for a few more seconds before they closed. His face was still except one single tear that escaped from his closed eyes.

I grabbed his other hand and placed it between both of mine.

It seemed wrong that I was on the bed comforting Derek as Cora's dead body hung from my kitchen banister. It almost made me feel guilty for not tending to Cora first, but I had promised myself that I would keep Derek safe and comfortable. So this was my priority in that moment. Holding Derek as he fell into a dark sleep.

I could tell when he fell asleep, but I stayed there for a few minutes longer. Making sure he was fully asleep and making sure that he didn't wake up from a nightmare. I knew they would be there, dancing along his eyelids, trying to pull him under the waves. But I would be there, holding him up in the water, doing the same thing he did for me.

I gently scooted away from Derek, my movements slow so I didn't wake him. I made my way downstairs and pulled out my phone. I stood in the middle of the living room, refusing to walk into the kitchen, with the phone pressed to my ear.

"Stiles?" My father's tired voice echoed throughout the phone.

"Dad? I need your help, just you though," I mumbled into the phone, my eyes scanning over the crumpled piece of paper that was now on the floor.

My father seemed skeptical at first, but he hung up with the promise that he'd be here soon. His promise rang true when he arrived some time later. He walked in slowly, his eyes scanning me. "What's going on?"

I gnawed on the side of my thumb as I motioned my other hand toward the kitchen.

He hesitated slightly before he entered the kitchen.

I heard him gasp, but I didn't see his reaction. I wouldn't look. I couldn't look up at the body that swayed slightly. My eyes stayed glued to the ground as I chewed on one of my nails. "It's Derek's sister," I mumbled, my voice distorted from my finger in my mouth.

My father walked over to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Where's Derek?"

"He's upstairs sleeping."

My father nodded before he spoke again. "Are you okay?"

I shrugged, my eyes finally rising to find his.

He watched me carefully before he turned his attention on the crime scene before him.

I'm not completely sure how he got Cora down, I ended up leaving the room the first chance I got. I did see him carry her body out with a blanket carefully draped over her.

He paused on his way out the door. "I'll make sure she gets a proper burial, do you know who did this to her?"

I rattled my mind, but nothing seemed to come up. Kate was dead, and no one else knew about the new werewolf in my home. I shook my head slowly.

He sighed and glanced down at the body he held in his arms. "I will find who did this."

I nodded silently, unable to find any words to thank him. I stood there for a few seconds before I mustered up enough courage to get cleaning supplies and go into the kitchen.

Cora's body was gone, but the scene flashed in my mind. There was an indent in the banister, where the rope had been. There was a mixture of black and red substances splattered onto the floor, as if someone had spilled paint.

I crouched down on the floor, my knees pressed hard into the wooden flooring, as I placed the basket I held beside me. I pulled out a brush and poured every kind of chemical I could onto it. I began to scrub, the chemicals mixing with the blood. The bristles scraped against the floor, pulling the blood stains off the ground.

I thought that this was over. I had thought that Derek was finally safe and happy, but once again I was wrong. Once again Derek was put through something no human should ever have to be put through. He was hurting and I could do nothing about it. It seemed as if everyone was out to get us, targeting us when all we wanted to do was be happy. My faith in humanity was lost, completely thrown out the window. Humans had turned into ignorant selfish creatures that killed and hurt for fun. I was tired of it.

Scrub

I wanted to show everyone what was going on on.

Scrub

I wanted to stop it.

I froze, my movements stopping mid scrub. I had got the most idiotic idea ever. The most ridiculous idea, but still it seemed to slam around inside my head. Demanding to be heard, demanding to be accomplished. I wasn't going to deny it that luxury.