BIG AN PLEASE READ: Okay, so for this chapter, we're leaving Beacon Hills for NYC. I can't tell you how excited I am for you all to read this one. You meet Maggie, who is by far my favorite character to write and I definitely have the most fun with. She's very mysterious ( ;) lots of winky faces) and very complex. I can tell you right now that you're either going to hate her or love her. Maybe a little of both. Anywho, I throw a lot of information at you in this chapter, so any questions, etc... shoot me a pm or something. I encourage it! -OGP

-The Long Road Home-

-NYC, NY-

It was loud in the bar Maggie worked in. She was wiping down a table that had just been used and secretly, she would keep her head under the table a little longer than she had to just to quiet the shouts, cheers, and yells. Maggie knew how stupid she looked but her head was pounding and sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures. Maggie was sitting up from having her head under the table pretending to clean when she felt a hand roughly slap her from behind.

There were cheers behind her, and laughs, but Maggie only closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She turned around calmly. In another time, she would have taken the wet, dirty cloth in her hand and slapped it across the man's face. But, in this one, she just shoved past him and let him have his laugh.

"Damn," Maggie heard behind her, "That is a nice fat ass."

More laughter. More high fives. More derogatory insults. More silence from Maggie.

Maggie went behind the bartending counter and asked the first person she saw what they wanted, trying to get her hands busy and her mind faraway. There was a girl twirling her hair and waved as she saw Maggie.

"What can I get you?" Maggie asked.

The girl leaned forward, speaking loudly, "Can I get a Glen Mckenna Scotch?" The girl started giggling.

Maggie's eyes narrowed for a second until she too laughed. "Seriously, what can I get you?"

"I just told you, silly!" The girl was laughing, and Maggie wasn't sure what was so funny.

"You do know a Glen Mckenna doesn't actually exist right?" Maggie said, her eyes wide as she watched the girl tilt her head.

"Really?"

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Yes, really, it's a fictional drink on How I Met Your Mother."

The girl squealed. "I love that show!"

"Clearly," Maggie muttered, "Now, what can I really get you?"

"I'll try a Jungle Juice," The girl winked.

Maggie's brows rose. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah!" The girl cheered, "It's your most deadliest right?"

Maggie nodded hesitantly, "Yeah, one of them. I'm going to have to see your ID."

The girl stopped laughing, her eyes wide. "My ID?"

"Yes," Maggie sighed, "It's regulation."

The girl cleared her throat as she handed her the card and when Maggie looked at it she groaned and slammed her hand on the counter in frustration.

"Are you kidding me?" Maggie held the card up. "This is the worst fake ID I've ever seen."

"Omg don't call the cops on me, please!" The girl was holding her hands in a prayer like form and Maggie wanted to scream. This underage girl had just wasted fifteen minutes of her time trying to order a drink she knew she wasn't going to get.

"Fine," Maggie said as she opened a drawer to her left, grabbing the pair of scissors.

"Um, can I have my ID back?"

Maggie looked at the girl incredulously. Maggie didn't say anything,but kept the girls gaze as she snipped the card in half. The girl gasped and Maggie mocked saluted her as she spun to run away.

Maggie threw the two halves of the card in the trash and watched as the girl shoved her way through the crowd. Maggie shook her head and rubbed her temples. It had been a long night, but the clock on the wall's time was five to four. Maggie's shift was nearly over.

"What was that about?"

Maggie turned and her manager, Ryan, was standing behind her.

"Underage girl," Maggie shrugged, "I took care of it."

"And those guys over there?" Ryan pointed to the bunch down the bar that had slapped her butt earlier. They were clinking their glasses and still shouting.

"Just rowdy guys," Maggie shrugged again, cleaning glasses.

Ryan stood next to her and grabbed a glass and a towel. "I saw what they did, and it sucks, but just remember-,"

"The more they fondle my tits and grab my ass, the better for business and the bigger the tip," Maggie interrupted, bitter and tired. She had been working all night and hadn't slept since the day before.

"Yes," Ryan nodded, clearly pleased with Maggie. "That's exactly it."

Maggie turned to her manager, "The business always comes first, right? Even if they're taking advantage of me?"

Ryan hummed. "Yup, it's why they pay you the big bucks."

Maggie scoffed, putting her cloth down. "It's why they give you the big check. I'm payed half as much as you."

"Aw, Maggie don't be that way."

"My shift is over, see you later," Maggie said as she walked around the counter, grabbing her bag and scarf and heading out the back door.

She reached into her bag and pulled her headphones out. She plugged them into her ears but didn't play any music. She wanted to be in silence without having to think of anything. She could hear the heels of her shoes clacking against the floor; it was the only sound she heard and she liked it this way. She opened the back door of the Lotus bar and exhaustion set in. The Lotus was the only 24 hour bar in New York City. It was hell, but it offered Maggie the highest pay.

It was cold in New York, not enough to snow, but enough for Maggie to bundle in her favorite scarf and warm her hands with a cup of coffee. If she had a cup. It was still dark out, but it was Maggie's favorite time of day. It was the time when the sky was darkest, but the morning was minutes away. The world seemed to stop for just a moment and everything could just be before the sun came and brought the world to life. Maggie hadn't grown up in the cold, but it felt familiar and kind to her somehow. It seeped into her bones and she'd either feel everything or nothing at all.

But it wasn't cold in New York. It was hardly even autumn, but Maggie felt the cold in the air deep in her bones. She was always cold.

Maggie was standing on a sidewalk that overlooked Coney Island when she came to her. A woman, mid twenties, uneven choppy brown hair that brushed against her leather jacket stared at her. Maggie stared back. It started with confusion, then shock, and then the realization sank in. It was like an anchor that slowly, slowly, sank to the deepest bottom of her heart and moored itself in her forever, because this woman wasn't a stranger. Hardly a stranger at all. This was Laura Hale. Her best friend.

Maggie's breath hitched in her throat, refusing to let her breath. It was like she had been punched in the gut, the air taken right out of her. And, staring at Laura, the ghost of who she once was, felt exactly like that.

Laura walked towards Maggie with a knowing smile that made Maggie's throat tighten uncomfortably. Agonizingly. She stopped in front of her and lifted her hand. It hovered over Maggie's shoulder and Maggie could see how much the woman wanted to physically reassure her that this was okay. That It was going to be okay.

But it wasn't. How could it?

"How?" Maggie hardly voiced above a whisper.

"Power is a blinding thing. It'll take the lowest of us and even the best of us to places we'd never thought we'd go." Laura's voice was loud and slow, somehow dancing on the edge of danger.

"I don't understand," Matook a step back from her.

Laura sighed, which couldn't seem possible since she was dead. "You will, Maggie. But, you have to go home."

"I am home," Maggie said cooly.

"Coney Island is not your home, my dear old friend," Laura said gently, her smile was soft and sorry.

"I can't go back if you're dead," Maggie's lip quivered.

"People die everyday, Maggie, but life keeps going. The world won't stop for you, it won't cease to go on because you're in pain. You have to fight through this, even if it hurts like hell, which," Laura smirked and chuckled, "Is probably where I'm going."

Maggie shook her head. "How could you joke right now?"

Laura was suddenly very grave, which was odd because she never was. "How can I not? This is the last time we will ever have this. This is the last time I will see the world as I am right now. I'm dead, Maggie, and I'm afraid of what happens when I pass through."

Maggie looked into Laura's eyes. They were once a vibrant, excited blue. Now, they lacked in hue, and didn't seem to have any color left in them. It wasn't right for the girl that was once Maggie's best friend from a time long ago.

"Did you suffer?" Maggie swallowed hard.

"Only for a moment," Laura said softly, "But you have to go back, Maggie. Promise me. Make things right again."

Their eyes locked for a moment, neither saying anything. Maggie didn't tell her she'd keep the promise the Laura wanted her to keep. Maggie didn't ask what happened, knowing she couldn't give her an answer. They both knew they just had to find some way to move on with this.

"The sun's coming up," Laura said, staring up at the sky.

Maggie looked up and sure enough, it was. The onyx pool of black that was the sky was now fusing into shades of purple.

"We used to watch the sun rise together all the time when we were kids," Laura chuckled. "Before I go, can we do that one last time?"

And so they did. One last time.

-!-!-!-

Maggie sat on the cold floor of her four hundred square foot apartment. She was staring at her bare wall, her headphones with no music playing plugged in her ears. She was trying to drown out the echos of Laura's words, but even after death Laura would not be ignored.

It was still unfailingly figmental. The idea of Laura being dead was never something Maggie ever envisioned becoming a reality. Laura was always someone that somehow managed to cheat death, to miss it by a breath. Maybe she just slowed down and it caught up to her.

Maggie's mind was somewhere in a place she had tried forget, a different time and another Maggie. Her eyes no longer saw her bare white wall but a long empty road. Her ears heard the memory of singing all her favorite songs and Laura's laughter.

But the past is in a place of have's and been's and done's and long gone's.

Just like Laura.

Maggie's phone vibrated on the floor next to her hand. She reached for it and when she saw the caller ID, she knew the timing was not inconsequential. She knew she couldn't let the phone ring as she had the times before it.

"What," She gulped.

"Maggie McCall," a soft voice said through the phone. "I'm so happy to hear your voice."

Maggie held the phone away and took a deep breath. "Hello, Deaton."

"Something terrible has happened-,"

"I know." Maggie jumps into the matter of business, hiding behind formalities from her vulnerability.

"Y-you know?" Deaton stuttered and for a second Maggie reveled in the fact she had surprised Deaton, someone who always knew everything before it happened.

"Of course I know, Deaton," Maggie bites. She's harsh and angry and she can't remember a time that she wasn't this way, but she knew it was there, somewhere in the deepest corners of her mind.

Deaton sighs. "I'm so sorry, Maggie. It's terrible."

"Yeah," Maggie laughs humorlessly, "Terrible is the word for it."

"It's time you came home, Maggie," Deaton said, "Things are no longer safe here."

"I am home," Maggie murmured.

"Maggie-,"

"What do you expect me to do, Deaton?" Maggie interrupted.

"I want you to be you," Deaton is gentle, he is soft and kind. He is as he has always been, and Maggie knows that her no will disappoint him. But he will understand. Deaton always understands.

"I'm sorry, Deaton," Maggie swallowed, finding it hard to breath. "All you have to do is find the new alpha. You can handle this on your own."

"You know that's not true, Maggie. The whole town is in danger and-."

"And it's not my problem!" Maggie snapped. She didn't mean to come across as defensive as she did, and maybe she should have apologized. But, she didn't. She knew she was being hurtful and that she going back home was the best thing right now, but she couldn't bring herself to say yes.

Deaton is silent for a moment before he speaks again. "Maggie, this is real. This is happening and it's going to get worse before it gets any better and I'm fearful that a lot of people are going to get hurt."

"You're fearful?" Maggie jeered.

"Yes." Deaton was sure and assertive.

Maggie sighed. "I have to go, Deaton."

"Okay," He said softly.

Maggie hung up the phone abruptly and ran her hands through her hair. She thought of Laura and what she said, what she wanted Maggie to promise to do for her. It seemed impossible, foolish, and reckless. But was Maggie to be surprised? It was Laura. Laura who was as complicated as she was arrogant and rash but underneath the bravado she wanted the world to see, there was humor and wit and kindness. Laura was selective, of course, but she made people believe they were important, that they mattered in the grand scheme of life.

No matter how hard she tried, Maggie couldn't drown out the thoughts that told her she couldn't hide anymore. The logical part of her said that Laura was deliberately killed and there was no more hiding for Maggie. She had to go back to Beacon Hills.

"Fuck," Maggie breathed out as her head fell between her legs, like she was dry heaving. She might as well be.

Maggie was breathing heavily as her fingers were dialing a number she always knew by heart. A number she could always call and didn't have to be anyone other than herself.

"Maggie!" Her mom's voice exclaimed when she picked up.

Maggie smiled. "Hi, mom. I'm just calling to say that I'm coming home."

-!-!-!-!-

The four and a half hour flight from New York to California was smooth and easygoing. And by smooth, Maggie meant that turbulence was a detrimental factor nearly the entire time; and by easy going, she meant a small child with not so small lungs screamed the whole time.

It was the cab ride, however, that Maggie could have done without. She'd relive that deplorable plane ride a million times over had it meant that she wouldn't have to be in this cab, in this city.

Beacon hills didn't have an airport, it was the city twenty minutes away that was the metropolitan city. For twenty minutes, Maggie suffered through the unbearable growing anxiety as the cab neared her once beloved home.

"Ma'am?" The driver said, looking at her through the rearview mirror. "Where would you like to be taken?"

"The nearest car rentals, please," Maggie said softly, distracted by the growing proximity of beacon hills. "It's going to the next left in one mile."

Maggie hated that she knew that. She hated the ghosts that followed her down this road and the shadows that lingered from a different time.

The car rental shop was right down the road and to the left, just as she said it was. And it was with a humorless chuckle that she saw the same cars in the lot as it always had.

The cab rolled to a stop and Maggie handed the driver a wad of cash.

"Thank you," She said as she opened her door adjusted the strap of her duffle bag on her shoulder.

Maggie walked across the gravel parking lot. There were a total of ten cars out for show and all of them did not exceed the year 2005.

The door chimed as she opened it, the same bell hung from the entry for ten years. Miller Wood was manning the front desk, much to Maggie's surprise.

"Miller!" Maggie greeted and smiled.

Miller was a stocky man with a head of copper hair. They had gone to highschool together, and he hadn't changed a bit.

Miller looked up at Maggie with unrecognition and then total astonishment. "Ma-Maggie? Holy shit it's like seeing a ghost!" He was stuttering and tripping over himself to get around the counter.

Maggie chose to ignore his comment. "I thought your dad ran the business?"

Miller shrugged. "Yeah, he did. Heart problems, you know? So, it's just me right now."

Maggie nodded. "Sorry about that," she said.

"What can I do for you, Maggie?" Miller clapped, changing the conversation to a much lighter one.

"I just need a rental, something cheap and one that I can hold onto for a while."

Miller nodded and reached underneath the counter. "I got one ready for you, follow me."

Miller led Maggie out the back door. It was dark so Maggie couldn't see the car he was walking towards until they stood right in front of it.

"You're kidding me," Maggie was dumbfounded as she looked at the black '67 Chevy Impala.

"Nope," Miller grinned, popping the p.

"Do you even know how many times I've crashed this car?" Maggie turned to Miller, brows raised high.

"Yeah," Miller exhaled, "That's why I'm giving it to you. No one will take it since you screwed the poor thing up. It's cursed. You're cursed. Have fun."

"Yeah," Maggie chuckled sardonically, "No kidding."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Maggie muttered.

Miller tossed her the keys and she caught them reluctantly. "Thanks, Miller," Maggie grumbled.

"Not a problem," Miller laughed as walked away. "See you around!"

Maggie was left staring at the car she had driven through out high school. It had a lot of her best memories, and a lot of the ones she'd rather forget. The car was dented and scratched, but she could say how it got each one. But, now was not a time for memories. She threw her bags in the back seat and sat in the driver's side. She ignored the feeling of being back in her first car and drove off. She had a vet to visit.

-!-!-!-!-

Maggie watched as people came and went through the seemingly normal animal hospital. She checked her watch.

10:28 pm.

It was getting ready to close.

She shook her head and smirked to herself, "This place is ridiculous". She got out of the car and walked in.

A bald man greeted her at the front, "I'm sorry but we're closed." He said politely, but stopped when he saw Maggie, shock evident on his face.

Maggie didn't say anything, just browsed along the walls and took everything in. Everything looked the same, even Deaton, and somehow she was the only thing that changed. Walking into the clinic was like walking into a time machine.

Deaton looked at Maggie with sympathetic eyes, "Why?" he asked calmly.

"Why what?" she said impatiently, turning to face him.

"Why did you come back Maggie?" he said kindly and softly. He hadn't changed a bit.

Maggie sighed. "You told me once that you could never run away from who you are," Maggie cracked her knuckles, a habit she had when she was nervous, "All I've been doing lately is running, but no matter how far I go, this place and who I am always catches up. I don't know why I'm here, but I know who I'm here for. I made a promise."

"I was afraid you'd say something like that," Deaton sighed.

"Why?" Maggie asked.

"I knew you'd only come back if Laura needed you," Deaton looked at Maggie as he spoke, "You always came running when she called."

"Are you insinuating that I was Laura's bitch?" Maggie scoffed, "Cause you're hardly one to talk about running to the howling wolves, huh, emissary?" Maggie quirked an eyebrow at him as Deaton shook his head.

"You know I don't do that anymore," He denied.

Maggie rolled her eyes. "You know that's a lie."

"I'm glad you're here, Maggie," Deaton changed the subject, smiling at Maggie.

Maggie diverted her eyes to the floor. "I'm not here to save everyone, Deaton, okay? I can't. I wouldn't even know how."

"I know." He said as he patted her hand, "But all you have to do is be you. That's it. The things that'll come once you do that will surprise you."

Maggie glared at Deaton. "I've already done that, Deaton, and nothing good comes from it. Unless you've forgotten."

"I haven't," He said gently.

Maggie sighed and looked up at Deaton apologetically, "I know how I left things here Deaton, and I'm sorry, but I can't say that everything will go back to the way it was. I'm not the same person I was four years ago." She said softly, almost as if she were embarrassed.

Deaton smiled at her. "There is nothing to apologize for, dear. You had every reason to leave the way you did."

"I should go," Maggie made to leave but Deaton stopped her.

"Wait," He said as he shifted on his feet and tilted his head. "And will you do to keep your promise?"

"You know me, Deaton," Maggie shrugged but then turned grave, "Whatever takes."

Deaton shook his head and looked down.

"What?" Maggie asked.

"Derek said the same thing." Deaton looked at Maggie and saw the shock and the fear in her eyes.

"Derek's in town?" She asked in whisper, her voice trembling.

"Are you suprised?" Deaton questioned.

"No," Maggie shook her head and cleared her throat, "No, of course not."

Deaton looked sympathetically at her. "You should talk to him." He said softly. "He's hurting just as much as you are."

Maggie shook her head. "I can't do that."

"Yes you can!" Deaton encouraged. "And you should. What happened in the past does not have to pave way for the future."

"Let's keep the past where it belongs, Deaton," Maggie said emotionlessly. She turned to the door and rested her hand on the doorknob, her back to Deaton. "Whatever happens next, the things I'll do, just remember I'm on your side." And then she left.

-!-!-!-!-

And there it is! Maggie's chapter! Questions, comments, concerns, or anything you loved/hated, let me know!