The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist would be fine
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine


Chapter 17: Dissemination


"You want to know what happened with your mother, correct?" Araya asked, an impish grin quirking at the corner of her mouth.

Sherry just watched her, stone-faced. She clenched her hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

"Let me tell you, Sherry Ming, there are a lot of things you don't know about her. I remember when I first met her. Oh, that was years ago. I told her, 'There are people in this world who are vicious, who cannot control themselves and rain pain and violence on innocent people.' She was an agent working for the FBI, managing the file systems." Araya eyed Sherry as she spoke, as if gauging for her reaction. "I said, 'The FBI is noble, yes, but there are many things going on that they cannot explain.' I didn't tell her about werewolves, but your mother was a smart woman. She knew something was going on, so she agreed." She stared at Sherry. "Aren't you going to ask me what she agreed to?"

Sherry gritted her teeth. "To what?"

"For the next ten years, she supplied us with information and files on known killers and threats. When those werewolves and other supernatural creatures wound up dead, she noticed immediately the drop in murder rates. Your mother knew that the information she was dispensing was saving lives."

"But you were killing people."

"Yes, and she knew that, too."

Sherry had to focus her breathing again. If she got too worked up, she knew she'd start crying from frustration. "My mom couldn't stand murders. She turned off the TV every time the news talked about them."

Araya smirked slyly. "No, she couldn't stand innocent people dying. Murderers? Well, that was a different story."

"If she believed that so much, why'd she turn herself in?"

"Because she was a coward!" Sicario bit out.

Araya glared daggers at him. "Quiet!" Turning back to Sherry, she answered, "Because the people we were hunting were getting an idea of who was giving them away. The longer she helped us, the more danger she was in. So eventually, she got so scared that she sought safety in a prison. The place where no one could get in or out."

"She said she felt remorse for what she did."

Sicario barked out a laugh. "That wasn't the first time she lied."

"And your poor father," Araya tsked, shaking her head disapprovingly. "After your mother told the whole truth, we were on the verge of being revealed. We're a secret organization, nina, we couldn't have that! But he just had to file a lawsuit and a search, trying to find us and make us pay for blackmailing his precious wife."

Sherry just wanted to scream at her. To attack her with all the force and adrenaline she had. But her eyes began to water, blurriness threatening to spill over. Her whole body trembled with nervous energy, like she'd swallowed two cups of espresso.

Braeden placed her hands firmly on Sherry's shoulder, a gesture meant to be comforting. Sherry shrugged them off.

"So you killed him," she said. "And you tried to kill me."

"He was a threat to us," Araya rationalized. "It was his life or risk being exposed. For all we knew, you could have been in on it, too."

"I wasn't!"

"Obviously," she sneered. "But imagine the backlash if the authorities knew only your father was killed. That would be a dead giveaway. If we killed you, too, then you would just seem like a hapless family struck by the worst of misfortunes."

"You're sick," Sherry spat. "Are you going to kill me now?"

"What good would that do? You're no harm now." She looked over at Chris Argent. "What's our motto, Christopher?"

"Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent. We hunt those who hunt us," he recited, a slightly robotic tone to his voice.

Sherry met Araya's gaze evenly. "So you're just going to let me go?"

"You wanted to know the truth. I told you."

Sherry glanced at Sicario, his stoic expression still haughty and distasteful. "Why, do you want me to kill you?" he snarled. He cracked his knuckles. "I won't mind."

"You won't touch her," Araya decreed. Sicario growled.

"Let's go," Braeden announced, nudging Sherry protectively. "And Chris? When you find Kate, make sure she stays dead this time."


She received a text the next day from Scott, asking where she was. She turned the phone over, blocking out the annoying light from the screen as she tugged her covers over her head.

A few seconds later, the buzz of metal vibrating on wood began to drone, accompanied by the default iPhone ringtone. Sherry groaned and grappled around on the top of the bedside table, searching blindly for her phone. Squinting through the dark, she tapped answer and turned the call on speaker.

"What?"

"Why aren't you at school?" Scott questioned.

"You're not my dad," she huffed. "Why do you want to know?"

"You've been really upset since Liam got poisoned," he answered. "I just want to know if you're okay."

"I just don't feel like dealing with people today, okay?" Her voice was muffled by the layers of blankets and pillows.

"Avoiding life won't help, Sherry," he reprimanded. When she didn't reply, he added, "Liam wants to know why you've been avoiding him."

She froze. "Is- is he better?"

"Still weak, but... why don't you go visit him?"

Sherry curled up into a tighter ball, shrinking away from the phone. "I don't know."

"He thinks you saved his life. Why don't you want to see him?"

She hung up. Immediately, her phone began to ring again, but she pressed her finger on the power button until the screen faded to black. Groaning, she shoved her face back into her pillows.


"I told him you didn't want to visit," Scott said, rapping softly on her bedroom door.

Startled, Sherry clutched her comforter to her chest like a koala on a tree. She huddled in the center of her mattress, blankets cocooning her body. "Why did you tell him that? And why are you here?" she rasped.

Scott leaned against the door frame, squinting into the dark bedroom, past the glow of the hall lights. "I wanted to check if you're doing alright. And you should elaborate yourself when you see him."

"How is he?" Her voice was tentative and hopeful.

"His injury is mostly healed. His body is functioning again."

Sherry nodded, the side of her head rubbing against the sheets. Her hair billowed, caught in knots and odd tangles.

"You love him," Scott noted, as if it were the most obvious thing. "Have you told him?"

"No. And I won't."

"Why not?"

"I'm not obligated to tell him," she mumbled. "I don't have to if I don't want to."

"Of course," he said, taking a seat on her bed. The air mattress tipped under his weight. "But when was the last time you told someone you loved them?"

"When my dad died," she admitted. She slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position, her legs folded under her. "That was the first time in a decade."

"You mean you never told your parents you love them?" Scott was shocked, his brown eyes boring into hers. It took all of Sherry's strength not to shrink away again.

"Not since I knew what phrase really meant," she said. She swung her legs in front of her and hugged them to her chest, scooting forward to rest next to Scott.

"You haven't told your mother?"

"I haven't told anyone," she murmured. Her voice cracked, making her sound as if she were about to cry. "I love a lot of people, maybe more than I should, but I don't tell anyone."

Scott rubbed her back comfortingly, his hand warm and big. "Why?"

She sniffed. "Because that word means so much. Love. Saying I love someone - the meaning goes so much deeper than three cursory words."

"But if you mean it, why don't you just say it?"

"Because-" she swallowed, her chin digging into her knees. "I just can't. Because I'd be giving away my soul or something."

"You know you'll be happier if you open up," he pointed out.

"I hate being vulnerable," she whispered. Her eyes were watering again, warm tears blurring her vision. She tried blinking them away, but it was too late. Scott had noticed. "I hate crying in front of people, too."

He pulled her into a hug, not even worried that she was getting the shoulder of his T-shirt wet. Her arms were limp at her side, unprepared for the sudden sign of affection. She realized, at that moment, exactly why Liam said Scott was a true alpha. She felt like she'd never trusted anyone more.

"By the way," Scott said after a while, "Why is there a mattress at the bottom of your stairs?"


Five days later, Sherry waited in the hospital lobby again, scribbling out calculus homework on a neon green plastic clipboard. The waiting room was mostly empty but for two families waiting for their check-ups. She guessed the end of May wasn't the heyday for illness and injury.

Far away, the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open, mixing in with the goings-on of the busy lobby. Someone stepped out, a muscular and broad-shouldered silhouette, walking unsteadily, like a zombie. At first, Sherry ignored him, barely believing what she saw.

The she zipped from her chair, making a mad dash toward him, and smashed into him with full force, leaping into the air in order to throw her arms around his neck. She was hyperventilating.

Parrish stumbled backward, taken off guard. "H-hey, Sherr-bear," he said, dazed.

"I love you," she breathed, her body overwrought with ecstatic tremors. "You're the worst guardian ever."

He hugged her carefully. "How long was I out?"

"Three weeks," she said.

"Whoa." He paused. "What did I miss?"

"Everything." She let go of her uncle, wringing her hands in front of her. "I think everyone will want to see you."

He grinned. "I think I should check out with my nurse first, so she doesn't freak when I'm not in my bed." He ruffled her hair affectionately. "Love you too, squirt."


A/N: Last chapter of season 4b! I'm going to start on season 5, but since I don't know the full story of what's happening yet, it'll be hard to come up with a good integration as of yet.

Should I put the next season in a separate story or tack it to the end of this one? And what are your thoughts on this ending?

Don't forget to review, favorite, and follow! Thank you all for your comments and criticism so far :) Love y'all!