A/N: Trigger Warning for minor character death in traumatic circumstances. I don't want to go into more details due to it possibly ruining a plot twist. That said, there are more details if needed in the end notes, however my author's notes will contain spoilers for the chapter.
Borrowed Time
When Derek broke free of the water, he gasped in a lungful of air and blinked cold droplets out of his eyes to look around. He found himself in a large white room. A gasp from his left drew his attention and he watched as Peter surfaced, despite going under before him. Taking a few seconds to regain his composure, Derek finally began to lift himself out of the tub.
His foot hit solid ground, almost tile like on his bare foot, but there was no sense of feeling, almost as if his feet had fallen asleep. It was disorienting and he stared down at them for a few seconds, wiggling his toes.
The sound of spilling water, had him looking over again, to see Peter following suit. The same confusion passing over his uncle's features as he set his bare foot on the white ground. Looking up, Peter also scanned the endlessly white room before meeting Derek's gaze. "Where the hell are we?"
"I don't know." Derek replied, looking around himself while turning in a large circle as if that would reveal something. When he was finally back where he started, he caught sight of a small pinprick off in the distance. "There." he pointed, taking a step forward.
The second his foot touched down, he felt damp warm earth. Instantly he dropped his gaze to watch as dirt pushed up between his toes. He clenched them and felt it mulch. As he continued to stare, a golden light drifted between his legs, curling around his ankles for a moment before stretching out before him. Following it, Derek frowned. Around him the white walls faded away, slowly becoming dark.
Whatever you do, stay on the path. Don't wander off into the darkness or you might never make it back.
He turned to look for Peter, but only found more darkness, the golden trail glittering off into the far distance. Turning back around, he found it there too, and to his right. Stretching out like veins, and at its center, a large tree. Stretching up into the endless sky, as if trying to touch the heavens. Its branches bare but for the shimmering golden mist.
Looking back over his shoulder, Derek squinted into the dark, "Peter!" he called, his voice echoing back at him.
Beneath him the earth seemed to rumble and all around him trees began to shoot up from the earth, caging him in. He looked back to the large tree, he could only imagine was the Nemeton, only to find his view of it obscured by a thick dark forest.
"Peter!" He yelled again, turning in another wide circle.
"Peter!" the name came back at him on the wind. It echoed back again and again, each time growing softer and more familiar than before, and his heart began to race. "Peter?"
"Laura?" Derek muttered, moving forward to meet his dead sister as she appeared between the trees, only for her to pass straight through him. His throat tightened and he turned to watch her walking hurriedly over to their uncle, stood a few feet away, bathed in moonlight and clothed in unfamiliar clothes.
Derek's stomach clenched at the realisation of where he was. When he was.
"Peter, there you are. Are you alright?" Laura said, reaching out for her uncle's shoulder.
"Laura!" Derek yelled, already knowing what was about to happen. He tried to rush forward, to safe his sister. Protect her, only he couldn't move. His feet were frozen in place.
Looking down, he saw thin vines of shimmering golden mist encircling his ankles. His stomach dropped as his head snapped up, rising just in time to see Peter lash out with teeth and claws. He tried to look away but found he couldn't. His eyes locking with those of Laura as she crumpled to the ground while Peter brutally slashed at her body.
It seemed to happen in slow motion, his sister's screams echoing around him, growing louder with each passing second. When it was finally over, Laura lay broken on the ground, a feral Peter crouched over her, blood covering his clothes and hands, the full moon glistening off blood coated teeth. A set of bright red eyes pierced through the darkness.
The sound of approaching footsteps had Derek turning. From between two trees, emerged a woman, the moonlight highlighting the white of her clothes. The closer she came, the more Derek was able to recognise her as Peter's old nurse.
She made her way over to Peter, a cold satisfied smile on her lips. "Excellent." she praised, "Now let's get you back to your room, you need to rest."
Peter got to his feet, back straight and proud. "Pack." he said around his extended teeth, voice wet from Laura's blood.
The woman lowered her gaze in a show of submission, though nothing else in her posture said she was giving into his dominance. "Soon, Alpha." she said plainly, looking up through her lashes. "Rest first, then you can begin to build a pack."
"Derek."
"Soon. We'll bring him home soon." The woman soothed, her hand stroking at his cheek.
Peter looked ready to argue, only to be silenced by the woman's hand on his neck as she stepped up to him. Looking down at her, Peter's hand reached for her throat, gripping it tight. She didn't struggle, instead meeting his threatening gaze with icy determination, before pulling him down into a rough kiss.
Derek turned away finally, his eyes finding his uncle, who stood behind him, visibly shaken. The scent of blood caught Derek's senses and he frowned, looking to Peter's hand. The ex-Alpha's blood dripping from between his clenched fingers as he too watched the vision of his past.
Despite the cold fury curling around his heart, Derek closed the gap between them and his uncle took a cautious step backwards. "Peter?" he asked, trying to gentle his voice, fighting to conceal the disgust and loathing. "Peter!"
"I... I wasn't myself." Peter muttered, shaking his head vigorously. "I was... I didn't..."
"It's alright Peter." Derek lied. It would never be alright, and they both knew it.
"Let's go, Peter." The nurse announced breathlessly behind them.
Looking back over his shoulder, Derek watched the pair vanish into the darkness, leaving him alone with his uncle, and Laura's body. Inhaling deeply, he moved towards it. Suddenly realising that he was no longer being held prisoner by the magic vines.
Stopping beside his sister, he crouched down, eyes scanning her body against his own better judgement. He remembered locating her, left in a pile of leaves, forgotten. He frowned suddenly. Laura's body had been torn in two and naked, yet here she lay, battered and bloody, ripped but still in one piece. Her clothes covering her body. - Mostly. He turned to Peter. "Did you return to bury her?" he demanded. Peter shook his head. "Did she?" Derek jerked his head in the direction Peter's past-self had gone with the nurse.
This time Peter shrugged, his focus turned towards the woods. Derek followed his line of sight, listening intently. In the silence he caught the sound of more movement among the trees and got to his feet, body crouching low, and ready to fight.
Moments later, three men stepped through the woods, clothed in black. Hunters? He wondered. They walked over to Laura, and Derek growled, flashing his eyes at the three strangers, but they looked right through him.
Getting to his feet, Derek stepped aside, watching as the small group surrounded his sister's body.
Peter moved over to his side and they watched as the men began to strip Laura of her clothes. Derek staring furiously, his fingers clenched at his sides, desperate to attack, to stop them from dishonouring his sister.
With Laura's naked body stretched out in front of them, the men stepped away, hovering around as if uncertain how to proceed. They spoke in hushed voices in a language he couldn't understand, nor did he recognise it.
Beneath his feet he felt the earth tremble and the golden mist that had held Derek captive floated across the ground, before blanketing Laura's body. Derek had no idea how long it lay there, cocooning his sister, before it slipped away, rippling off past him.
It floated over to the still shimmering root, where it blended, causing it to pulse almost violently.
"Is that the path?" Peter asked, staring after the wave of magic as it stretched off into the horizon. "Maybe we should follow it."
Derek shook his head, turning back to Laura. The sound of yet more approaching footsteps caught their attention and they both straightened instinctively when the nurse reappeared. She waltzed straight over to the men, as if nothing had occurred, greeting them with a solemn nod.
"Fe'nos tol." the men said in greeting, and the nurse replied in kind before looking down at the body.
"The Banshee?" she asked, voice commanding, while she scanned Laura's prone corpse.
Derek frowned at her question, glancing over to Peter.
"We have her, but she refuses to tell us where the Nemeton is?"
The nurse sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. "I didn't expect any different from her. – Sandeman?"
Derek's stomach clenched at the name, his brows drawing tighter together, heart racing. Surely it wasn't the same man Stiles had told him about? It had to just be a coincidence.
"He got away." The short of the three men said, lowering his head guiltily.
The nurse lifted her gaze to stare at him. "Does he know we have his sons?" The three men nodded, "Then he'll come to us."
She looked back down at the body.
"What about the Banshee?" One of the men asked nervously.
"Kill her. - Luckily, she foolishly left her granddaughter unprotected." She shook her head, smirking. "As soon as I have Peter completely under my control, I'll send him after the Banshee. Then everything will be ready. - Now, help me get rid of this body."
"Why don't we just…?"
She looked at the shorter man, while stepping around to stand at Laura's feet, "Because, as it stands," she looked down at the body, "It looks like nothing more than an animal attack. - Peter needs his revenge, or he'll never be under our control, which means luring the hunters back to town. – And Derek."
Derek's head snapped around to stare at Peter, eyes wide with shock. "You wanted me…dead?"
Peter shook his head, "I…" He inhaled deeply, "I wanted you in my pack. I wanted my family back."
"Then why not just call them?" The inquisitive man asked, just as Derek opened his mouth to ask the same question.
The nurse glared at him, clearly tired of the questions. She ignored him and focused on her task, watching as the tallest of the three men moved to take a position at Laura's head. Reaching down he slipped his hands under her arms and the nurse reached for Laura's legs, lifting her as if she weight nothing, then shifted forward to step between them and gripped her hips.
Derek's stomach twisted in anticipation, dread curling around his heart, and he turned away. The wet sound of tearing flesh and cracking bone echoed in the darkness, tears rolled down his cheeks and he shifted, claws biting hard and bloody into his palms. The air was stale with the scent of blood.
There was no sign of Laura's scent, and when Derek finally gained the courage to look, he found nothing. They were gone. Laura, Peter's nurse, the strange men. It was as if they'd never been there. Derek looked over to Peter, seeing that he too had his back turned to the scene, his hands equally bloody.
"Peter?"
Both men turned at the sound of another familiar female voice, their stomachs dropping as Laura stepped out of the woods looking worried and fearful. Peter groaned agonisingly as the past began to replay itself all over again.
"I can't do this again." Peter growled, turning furiously away from the scene and marching back the way he came.
Derek hurried after him, surprised to be able to move this time. "We need to find Cora, Boyd and Erica." He stated, catching up to the older man. "She said we need to keep focused on them."
"She also said to avoid the darkness, and yet." Peter grunted, waving his hand at the surroundings. "We're lost, Derek."
Fixing his gaze on his uncle, Derek huffed out a frustrated noise. "You're the guide, don't you know how to find your way back to the path?"
Peter looked up at him with raised mocking brows and a smirk. "Last time I was here, I wasn't exactly paying attention. All I remember is…" he shook his head, turning to stare out across the dark woodland. "A white mist and the sound of a woman's voice." He said quietly, breathing heavily as he spoke. "It was as if I was being held captive. Unable to move forward. – And then I was being dragged back. Back into the world and…" he shrugged, gesturing with his hands, "Here I am. – Or there I was, before you forced me back into this place."
"A woman's voice?" Derek frowned. "Who?"
Shaking his head, Peter met his curious gaze and shrugged. "I… I'm not sure. It was… It was strange, as if it were one voice and a thousand all at the same time." He sighed, looking away. "I… I think one of them was Lydia."
"You called?"
Derek and Peter turned sharply, eyes widening as they stared at the young woman. "Lydia?" they gasped in unison, both averting their gazes.
Lifting a confused brow, Lydia looked between them before down at herself. Instantly she brought both her arms up to cover her exposed flesh. "Oh for Christ sake, not again." She grumbled bitterly.
Without looking at her, Peter dragged off his T-shirt and carried it over. Lydia took it gratefully and hurriedly slipped it over her head, gripping the hem that barely covered her lower half. Stretching and holding it in place. "Thank you." She said softly, smiling up at the older man.
"You're welcome." He replied, smiling back at her.
They stared at one another until Derek cleared his throat, lifting his eyes to meet the teenager's. "What are you doing here, Lydia?" he asked.
Tearing her gaze from Peter's, she shrugged. "Hell if I know." She grumbled. "Last thing I remember I was heading back to town with Stiles when we got side-swiped by this black van.
Derek stepped forward eagerly. "A black van? Did you see who was driving? What happened?"
Lydia looked up at him with knitted brows, shaking her head. "I don't know. I didn't see much more than gravel and glass."
Taking another desperate step, Derek reached for Lydia, only for Peter to grab his wrist hard, forcing himself between them. "She said she doesn't remember." He warned protectively.
Derek growled, green eyes bleeding red for a second, but Peter would not be cowed. He fixed his feet and met the Alpha's gaze, fighting the instinct to submit.
"What's going on?" Lydia demanded angrily over Peter's shoulder.
"Stiles is missing." Derek replied flatly, never breaking eye contact with Peter.
"What?" Lydia gasped, "Will you two stop." She added, shoving Peter aside and moving up closer to Derek. "What happened to Stiles?"
Shaking his head, Derek replied, "We think the Darach has him."
Lydia stared thoughtfully off into the distance, trying to recall what happened at the accident.
"We're here to find the Nemeton. It will lead us to the Darach and the others." Derek informed her breathlessly, "What are you doing here?" he frowned, as if the question had only just occurred to him.
"She's a banshee." Peter reminded him, rolling his eyes.
While Derek shot his uncle an irritated glare and prepared to reply, Lydia began to walk away. Exchanging looks, the pair followed after her, hurrying up to her sides. "Lydia?" Peter asked, but she didn't answer.
The darkness of the woods slowly gave way to the bright familiar corridors of Beacon Hills Hospital. Derek frowned, looking around cautiously. After a few seconds of passing empty rooms, Lydia came to a halt, staring at the only closed door on the corridor. Peter looked from Lydia to Derek, then back again. Stepping forward, Lydia melted into the door. It took a few seconds before the werewolves attempted to follow.
When they entered the room, Lydia was stood at the end of a bed, staring down at herself. Stepping up to her side, Peter reached for her hand, while Derek, unsure what to do with his own hands, slipped them into the pockets of his jeans.
"Lydia?" Peter whispered, but once again the young woman remained silent, her eyes locked on her own unconscious body.
The sound of a door opening had both werewolves turning to watch the familiar form of Deaton slipping inside. He was carrying his medical bag, and after closing the door quietly, he stepped over to the side of the bed, looking down at Lydia with barely a flicker of emotion. Setting the bag on the small rolling table, he opened it and removed a jar.
Twisting the lid off, he set it aside and pulled back the covers. Baring Lydia's side and pulling off the dressing, he turned to the jar. He worked with blank determination.
They watched in utter silence, barely even breathing, while Deaton rubbed the powder into the wound. Derek caught the faint tang of mountain ash and something familiar that he couldn't quite place. Then Deaton started to mutter under his breath, but Derek and Peter could hear what was being said, though they couldn't understand it.
Deaton was speaking in the same foreign language as the men in the woods, and it send a wave of anger and fear through Derek.
"What is he doing?" Peter seethed, his fingers tightening around Lydia's. He took a step closer, eyes flashing blue, but felt Lydia pull him back. Turning to look at the young woman, Peter frowned. "Lydia?"
She swallowed, her body trembling, tears pooling in her eyes. "He…he did it. He…" she choked off and Peter stepped back to her side, sliding his arm protectively around her, pulling her into his chest as she cried. He stroked at her hair and glared over murderously at the veterinarian.
Derek watched them with a twinge of envy, and the overpowering need to have Stiles home.
Almost in an instant, the room around them was dark and it took a few seconds for Derek's gaze to adjust again. The floor beneath him shifted in a familiar rhythmic motion. Blinking Derek realised he was in a van, and his breath caught.
Turning away from the blacked out windows, his heart leapt into his throat. There was a figure on the floor, curled up in a ball, rocking with the movement of the vehicle. On either side of it, sat on slim benches sat two more figures, dressed completely in black, but for their exposed faces. Derek looked between them, burning their faces to his memory, as he moved over to the lump on the floor.
He didn't need to get closer to identify who it was, it was perfectly obvious from the familiar the scent, but he needed to be sure. Clinging to hope, that was soon shattered when he saw the cut and blooded face of Stiles.
Tears swelled in his eyes as he dropped into a crouch next to him, reaching out, only to have his hands slip through Stiles like they were passing through fog. A lump rose up in his throat and he let out a loud growled, that no one reacted too.
Glancing over at the guard, Derek realised with a painful twist to his insides, that Stiles hadn't been taken by the Darach, as they'd believed, but rather by Manticore. They'd been too lax, he scolded himself. They'd known Manticore were sniffing around town, but they'd been so preoccupied with the Darach that they'd let their guard down. – That he'd let his guard down. He should have protected Stiles. Should have kept a closer eye on him.
He should have tried to find the woman on the bike, but he'd failed Stiles. Failed the man he loved, just as he'd failed to protect Paige all those years ago. "I'm sorry." He whispered brokenly, closing his eyes and fighting back tears. "I…"
"I'm sorry."
Derek opened his eyes and found himself suddenly unable to breathe, his heart pounding even harder against his ribs. He looked around, whole body shaking. Gone was the van, replace instead with damp stone.
The air was stale with blood and earth. Thick ancient tree roots cut across the floor, while vines climbed the walls, hanging from the ceiling, and encircling the large triskelion carved into the stone above where his past-self sat huddled together with Paige, her limp body cradled in his arms. Their fingers knotted together between them as her life slowly slipped away.
Derek's breath caught as he stared at the vision of his past, his hands shaking uncontrollably. He took an unsteady step back, desperate to escape his first sin. Paige opened her lips to speak but Derek didn't want to hear it. He didn't need to hear it, he remember it all so clear now.
"I'm sorry." His teenage-self whispered once more, voice breathless from trying to ease her pain.
"I knew." She replied weakly, meeting his eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"I've seen things in this town. Things no one really could explain. – And then…" she panted, wincing as she moved ever so subtly. "There's the way that you talk. You say things like you'd caught a scent, or heard something no one else can. I knew." Paige whimpered and Derek couldn't take it, turning away from them.
He startled when he found Peter and Lydia stood there, watching him with sorrowful looks on their faces. Peter looked past him with sadness and sympathy in his cool blue eyes, his free hand blindingly reaching out to squeeze reassuringly at the Alpha's shoulder.
"I knew." Paige repeated behind them. "And I love you anyway. I love you." She let out an agonising groan and Derek closed his eyes tight, wishing he could run but there was nowhere to run to. Paige cried for a short while and Derek felt the phantom weight of her body in his arms, the smell of her weakening scent in his nostrils.
"She…she said…" Paige panted. "If I were one too, we could…be together forever. We wouldn't need to…hide."
Derek's stomach cramped and he clenched his fists at his sides, till fresh blood began to paint the earthen ground.
"She?" His younger-self asked at the same moment as Lydia and Peter.
"Emily." Paige panted, blinking back tears, "She's one of you." Her body crumbled in on itself once more as a fresh wave of pain ripped through her, slowly tearing itself apart from the inside.
Sensing their eyes on him, Derek opened his own and met their confused gaze, swallowing thickly as he replied in a harsh shaky voice. "Kate."
Peter inhaled sharply. "Are you sure?"
"It's what she called herself when she met Harris and the drunks she convinced to…. – Besides, she…told me so herself." He muttered, turning his head just a little, torn between looking over his shoulder at the first person he ever loved, and not.
When Paige's whimpering stopped and the room fell eerily silent, only then did he finally turn, weeping along with his past-self.
Lydia stepped up to him without a word, wrapping him in a comforting hug that did little to actually ease the pain, but he was grateful for her presence. She didn't bother with platitudes or whispered words of comfort, she simply held him and let him find his own way back from the darkness.
When he was done grieving, Derek straightened, scrubbing angrily at his face and cleared his throat. "Thank you." He choked out with a grateful nod.
"You're welcome. – It's what Stiles would want me to do." She smiled regretfully up at him.
Looking over her shoulder, Derek frowned as he noticed that Peter was staring past him. Turning, his eyes widened as he saw the now recognizable golden mist leaking out of the ancient roots to swirl around Paige's body, just as it had done with Laura. It curled its way between his past-self and Paige, encasing her.
Moments later, the earth shook and the root around them began to glow.
"What's happening?" Lydia asked, stepping closer to Peter and reaching for his arm.
Both men shook their head, staring at the mist. Waiting for it to slip away back to the roots.
"It happened with Laura too." Peter whispered, his voice heavy.
"The Nemeton." Derek said confidently. "It has to be."
Turning back to look at his uncle, Derek frowned, staring past the other man. Beyond his uncle's shoulder was a road. Turning fully, Derek walked over, eyes scanning the dark. Off to their right was the distance lights of Beacon Hills, bright in the darkness, to their left, the county highway. A set of lights heading towards them. Derek glanced up at the sky, noting the full moon, before the sound of tires yanked his attention back to the road.
As they stood there, another set of lights appeared from behind, moving closer and closer. Derek frowned, watching in bewilderment as the second set moved up to the side of the car. With his enhanced vision, Derek could make out the differences in the vehicles. One a small battered up WV Beatle, the other a large SUV.
He wasn't sure why they were there, but he felt his heart racing, horrified as the sound of screeching tires and crashing metal filled the air. Watching with wide eyes as the SUV slammed into the side of the car, driving it off the road and straight into nearby tree.
A woman's scream was cut off by the sound of shattering glass, then the screech of tires as the SUV pulled to a stop a little way off. Its rear lights bright in the darkness. For half a second Derek thought the driver was going to get out and check on the car, but then the SUV hit reverse, spun around and sped away. Leaving the Beatle a smoking wreck.
Without really thinking about it, driven by his instincts, Derek hurried across the road towards the crash. He peered through the passenger side window to find a young woman, alone and trapped behind the steering wheel. There was the heady scent of blood, mingling with that of the gasoline, and the sound of weak heartbeats. – Three. That's when Derek fully took in that the young woman was pregnant, her extended stomach pressed against the wheel.
Straightening, Derek hurried around the car and reached for the door, only for his hand to once again pass through it. He growled in frustration. Blood was seeping from her temple and there was glass embedded in her face. "It's alright." Derek whispered, not caring if she could hear him or not.
The sound of an approaching car had the Alpha turning, staring into the darkness as a car headed their way from the town. He hurried back to the road and attempted to flag it down,
"They can't see you." Lydia reminded him in a sad sigh.
Turning to look at her, Derek found his gaze drawn to Peter. His uncle stood there, pale in the moonlight, visibly shaking as he stared at the wreckage with watery eyes. "Peter?" Derek asked, frowning. "What's wrong?"
Peter didn't say anything. Lydia turned to look at him, looking equally as worried suddenly, her hand reaching out to touch the man's shoulder. The second she did, she yanked it back as if burnt, her head snapping around to stare at the car, tears rolling down her cheeks unbidden. "Oh god. I…" she looked back to Peter once more, "I'm sorry." She whispered, reaching out to touch him again, pulling back at the last second, nervous to make contact a second time.
"What? What's wrong?" Derek asked, frowning as he looked between the pair. Behind him a car pulled to a stop and he heard a door open. He didn't turn to look until Lydia gasped, looking past him. "Lydia?"
She didn't reply, instead stepping away from a still frozen Peter and past Derek. Turning Derek followed her, around the car where a slightly familiar looking woman stood beside the crumbled door.
"Mrs. Whittemore?" Lydia frowned.
"What's your name?" Mrs. Whittemore asked, leaning through the window.
The voice inside was weak and broken, filled with tears. "Sa-save my b-babies." She pleaded weakly. "Please."
Mrs. Whittemore looked at the woman, "Okay, just… I'll be right back." She hurried away, back over to her car. Derek watched her over the roof of the Ford, listening as she dialled 911 and told them about the wreck." They were on the other side of town, it would take them at least twenty minutes to get there, Derek knew.
Hanging up the call, Mrs. Whittemore hurried back to the car, just as the young woman inside let out a desperate cry. "Peter!" she screamed, the name seeming to echo around them. Derek looked over to his uncle, brows furrowed.
Peter stared back at him, shaking his head, even as his feet carried him closer.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" Mrs. Whittemore asked gently. "Who's Peter?"
The young woman panted, tears rolling down her face, mixing with sweat and blood. She doubled over slightly, hands clutching at her stomach. "They're coming." She wept.
"Shit." Mrs. Whittemore swore, panic tainting her voice. "Okay. Okay." She grabbed hold of the door handle and tried to yank it open. It wouldn't budge and she reached inside the car to unlock it, before trying again. It took a few attempts but eventually, and with a loud screech of metal against metal, the door came free. "Can you get your seat belt off?"
The young woman shook her head, forcing Mrs. Whittemore to reach around her and uncouple it, before she was able to heave the heavily pregnant stranger out of the car. "Now, your name?" Mrs. Whittemore panted.
"Josephine." The young woman replied breathlessly, panting as her body doubled over with what was obviously another contraction.
"Okay, Josephine. Let's just sit you down here, until the ambulance arrives, shall we?" Mrs. Whittemore lowered her down to the damp ground, then dropped down beside her. "Is Peter your boyfriend?" she asked between pants.
Josephine nodded, before toppling back against the grass and crying out.
Derek looked from Josephine to Lydia, then over to Peter. He had no idea Peter had a pregnant girlfriend? His stomach dropped as a horrifying realisation occurred to him, and he swallowed.
"It's alright Josephine, just breathe." Mrs. Whittemore ordered, brushing at the girl's hair, "Ambulance will be here soon."
Josephine began to cry, her hands clutching at her stomach. "I want Peter." She wept, "I want him here."
Derek looked over at his uncle, his heart twisting with sympathy. He couldn't imagine how hard it was for the man to stand over there, reliving his past.
"Would you like me to call him? Do you have his number?"
"Ph-phone. In the car."
"Okay, sweetheart, just…" Mrs. Whittemore scrambled back to her feet and hurried over to the car, rifling through the debris."
Another cry ripped through the night, louder and filled with more pain. Derek could smell the blood before they began to see it. "Shit."
Mrs. Whittemore came hurrying back, dropping to her knees beside the distraught young woman. "Oh shit. Josephine? Josephine?" she pleaded.
"Coming." Josephine said weakly, "Safe my….Ahhhh!" she screamed, her legs parting.
Mrs. Whittemore shuffled around to crouch between the young woman's legs, lifting her skirt and going pale when she saw the blood coating the inside of Josephine's thighs.
"Shit, she's haemorrhaging." Lydia said, chest heaving with panic.
"Peter." Derek said, looking over to his uncle. "Peter!"
Peter shook his head, "I… No."
"Peter," Lydia whispered, looking over to him, her voice tight with tears and sympathy. "This is your chance to say goodbye."
There was a long moment, where Peter stared at them, then looked away, shaking his head. Lydia sighed, turning back to watch Mrs. Whittemore. Josephine moaned weakly, sweat rolling off her forehead, while tears slipped from her eyes.
"Oh my god, I can see the head." Mrs. Whittemore panted. "Shit. Okay, Josephine, just… Shit, uh, push."
"Peter." She whimpered, chest heaving and body shaking as she sobbed.
"I'm here." Peter choked out, appearing from behind Derek. He dropped down beside her head, his hand reaching for her hair, only to pass right through. "I'm here, Jo. Right here." He cried. "You're doing so well."
Josephine's eyes opened, seeming to lock with his. "Peter?" she whispered again.
"Can she see him?" Derek asked Lydia quietly.
"I… I don't know. It's possible." Lydia shrugged, swallowing a lump in her throat.
"I love you." Josephine whispered, reaching up to brush her fingers over Peter's face, only to find nothing but air.
Peter made a choking noise and dropped his head, "I love you too." He whimpered. "I'll always love you."
Derek swallowed the thick lump in his throat, breathing heavily. Was it any wonder Peter had closed himself off from the world when he'd lost his girlfriend and obviously their children too? Hell, when he'd lost Paige, life hadn't felt like living anymore, he couldn't even begin to understand what his uncle was going through.
"Come on Josephine, come on. Almost there." Mrs. Whittemore said, panting. "Just one more push should do it."
"Come on Jo." Peter whispered, just one last push. He lent forward, till his forehead was almost touching hers, if she weren't merely a vision of the past. A past Peter had carried around with him all his life.
Josephine smiled weakly, gave a little nod and then pushed.
There was an eerie silence, before a loud piecing cry ripped through the night. They all turned to see Mrs. Whittemore holding a blood covered baby, as it cried for its mother. Derek smiled sadly, before looking back to Peter. His uncle, leaning down in an attempt to kiss Josephine's lips. He settled for kissing air and whispering, "I love you."
Derek inhaled slowly, crying along with Peter and his child, his chest tightening as he looked at the newborn. He seemed healthy, but… - But something had to have happened because Derek hadn't grown up with cousins, which meant… It tore Derek up inside.
"It's a bo…Oh, Oh god, Josephine?" Mrs. Whittemore cried, scrambling over to the young woman's side, and pressing two fingers against her throat. "Oh god. I'm so sorry."
"The other baby?" Derek frowned, straining to listen, only to hear nothing. He exhaled a regretful sigh and stepped over to his uncle, reaching for his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks.
Peter looked from Josephine to her still swollen stomach, to Mrs. Whittemore, cradling his son.
Beneath them the ground shook, and a second later the golden mist flooded into the area, swirling around them before enveloping Josephine's body as it had done with Laura's. Peter pulled back, eyes wide and angry, as it pulsated over his dead girlfriend, before swimming away into the middle of the road, where it merged with a tree root.
Derek frowned, stepping a little closer, watching it closely. It seemed to ripple in the direction of woods, beckoning them to follow.
"It's alright little one." Mrs. Whittemore said, "I have you."
Derek, Lydia and Peter all turned back to the woman, watching as she got to her feet.
"I'll take care of you." She pressed her lips to the baby's forehead. Looking down at the young dead woman, Mrs. Whittemore exhaled a long breath, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'll look after him. He'll have everything he's ever wanted. I promise." With that, she began to back away from the body and hurried back to her car.
Peter was on his feet, chasing after her. He reached out to grab her but it was pointless. It was the past. A brief snapshot in time.
"Oh my god." Lydia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Jackson?"
As the car sped away, heading off into the darkness, Peter stared after it, eyes flashing blue and features transformed with fury.
"I can't believe…" Lydia muttered, shaking her head, eyes wide with shock. "Jackson?"
Derek could hear her heart hammering and he lay his hand on her shoulder, comforting her. She looked up at him, blood-shot eyes still filled with tears. "I'm in love with my ex-boyfriend's father?"
Uncertain what to say, Derek shrugged. "I suppose it could be worse." He said quietly, "He could be your father."
Lydia narrowed her eyes at the Alpha, unamused, then marched away from him with a huff, stopping beside Peter. She didn't touch him, just offering the comfort of her presence. "I don't understand how she… could do that?" Lydia whispered. "How did no-one know? Surely…" she looked back to Josephine, "Why didn't her family investigate?"
"Next time I see Chris," Peter said sharply, "I'll be sure to ask him." He stalked back to Josephine's body, only to find it gone.
"Chris?" Derek frowned, "Chris…Argent?"
Peter turned his head, fixing his nephew with a hard look. "Yes. Josephine was his younger sister." He informed him harshly.
Derek's eyes widened, "I… - An Argent?"
Peter bristled, marching towards Derek. "I'm not the only one, am I?" he seethed, "Difference is, Jo…" his voice stuttered briefly. He inhaled deeply, before continuing, "Jo never tried to kill my family. – She loved Talia. She loved you!"
"Me?" Derek gasped, "But I…." he shook his head, "I don't remember."
Peter scoffed, shaking his head. "No reason you should, you only met her once when you were eight." His shoulders slumped, and he tore his gaze away from Derek to stare at the now empty patch of earth. "She thought you were adorable."
"Everyone knew?"
Peter sighed, "There was no reason to hide. Not then." He shook his head, dragging his trembling hand through his hair. "It was only after she became pregnant that things changed. Gerald Argent was furious. He might live by the code, but the idea of a werewolf grandchild." He huffed in cold amusement. "He sent her way to stay with 'family', I got two letters from her. One telling me she was pregnant, and how she was fighting to keep it, despite them trying to force her into having an abortion. The other telling me she was coming home. She was on her way back when…." He waved at the now empty road.
"All I was told," Peter continued, "was that she'd died in a car accident, the baby too."
"Did you know it was twins?" Lydia asked softly.
Meeting her teary eyes, Peter shook his head, "I had no idea. I… I guess she was going to surprise me." He smiled sadly.
"I'm sorry." Lydia said again, and Peter nodded, holding out his hand to her, then reeling her in, pressing his lips to her forehead as he hugged her tight.
He looked up at Derek from over Lydia's head. "We should get going. The sooner we find what we came here for, the sooner we can get back and I can start getting some fucking answers."
"You're going to tell Jackson?" Lydia frowned looking up at him.
"Of course."
"He won't believe you." She informed him flatly.
"Maybe not." Peter sighed, "But he'll believe a DNA test."
Derek reached over and gave his uncle's shoulder a squeeze, then started in the direction he'd seen the golden mist disappear.
After only a few steps towards town, they found the darkness slipping away, replaced by the white room. In its center stood a huge tree, the same tree Derek had seen when he'd first arrived. As they moved closer, Derek could see ancient runes of differing sizes carved into its bark, the triskelion being one of the larger ones.
Keeping their distance, they moved around the tree. Beneath all the large symbols stretched out a thick root, stretching off into the distance. Stopping once more in front of the triskelion, he turned his head and followed the path of the root, inhaling when he saw the familiar sight of the high school off into the distance.
He looked questioningly over to Lydia on his left, "Museum." She whispered.
"The hospital." Peter announced from behind Derek.
Lydia moved cautiously around the tree, vanishing from sight only briefly before stumbling back quickly. From behind the tree emerged a shadowy figure. Peter hurried over, grabbing Lydia's arm and pulling her protectively behind him. Derek moved closer to his uncle's side, teeth and claws bared in readiness of a fight. They watched it as it moved around the tree before stopping a few feet away from Derek. It looked to be facing the tree, and when Derek narrowed his eyes, honing his sight, he noticed it was a person donned in a blood red robe.
Slowly it dropped to its knees, and began to chant. That same foreign language they'd heard Deaton and the others speak. Derek and Peter exchanged looks, then Derek took a cautious step forward.
"Stop!" Ordered a heavily accented female voice, and Derek froze, his whole body seeming to turn to stone, fixing him in place. "You come here to stop me?" she scoffed, slowly rising and turning to face them. Her hood still concealing her face, despite her head being lifted. "Foolish wolf." She spat with venom. "Will your kind never learn?"
I don't usually do this because it can ruin the plot somewhat, but I realise it's a sensitive subject, so I feel I need to give a Trigger Warning for the death of a mother and child during birth.
_Spoliers_
Yes, that's right, Jackson Whittemore, is really Jackson Hale. Son of Peter. This love triangle just keeps getting messier and messier but that's what happens when people steal babies from dead mothers. At least we know what Isaac's dad had on the Whittemores to keep Jackson quiet, huh? It kind of does make it seem as if Beacon Hills is one of the most corrupt places in the country, right? I mean between the Argents paying off people to cover up the fire, Deaton spying on the Hales and now the Whittemores kidnapping babies and then paying off people to cover it up. (See: Couch Lehay and possibly, Erica's dad) It's almost like the Sheriff is the most honest man in the town. lol
