Chapter 1
Omega/Blood
Grayson sucked in a deep breath through her nose and blinked up at the house she used to call her home. She didn't look back when she heard the trunk of the car slam shut and she barely held in the urge to pull away when her sister draped an arm over her shoulders. "Looks the same doesn't it?" Grayson grimaced.
"I don't remember." Lie. She remembered all too clearly everything about this house. Kara took a deep breath through her nose. "Don't be like, Gray. This is your life now." Kara stepped away and turned to stand in front of her. Her face was a mask of indifference and determination. "I'm the only family you have and you need to accept that. Until you're 18, you're stuck with me. Try to make the best of it."
Kara searched her eyes before sighing and turned towards the house. "You can have your old room." Grayson sighed before slowly following her sister up the front steps.
The house was the exactly the same on the inside as it did in her dreams. Wide and bright. There wasn't a space in the house that wasn't illuminated by natural or artificial light. Grayson examined every inch of the house before she met her sisters eyes.
Kara's eyes were hopeful and a little desperate. She wanted Grayson to stay. Grayson sagged internally. She wasn't angry at her sister. Okay, she was angry at her sister but not for moving her to Beacon Hills. She was angry at her sister for leaving her alone four years ago to deal with her alcoholic father alone. That wasn't a twelve year olds job.
She wasn't angry about living in Beacon Hills but she wasn't thrilled either. It was the beginning of the second semester which meant she was starting in the middle of the school year and didn't know anyone. She sighed again and shrugged. "I'm trying, Kara."
Her sister nodded and flicked her eyes to the stairs. "Do you remember where it is?" Grayson just nodded in response and slowly moved towards the long staircase. She drug her bags on the floor behind her as she passed the hall bathroom, the guest room which used to be Kara's room, her parent's room which, apparently, was now Kara's room and finally stopped at the end of the hall.
The white door was closed and the brass knob was cold against her palm as she pushed the door open. She stood in the doorway for a long time, just taking in what Kara had done to the room that used to be bubble gum pink with unicorns on the walls.
In place of her white child's bed was replaced with, what appeared to be, an expensive iron four post bed frame that had transparent white curtains tied down to each post so that when she untied it, the bed was surrounded by white. The bedspread was all white as was the rest of the furniture in the room. The nightstand on the right hand side of the bed was white with a silver lamp and a black alarm clock.
The dresser on the wall directly across from her, with two windows on either side of it that also had white curtains, was white with a large wide mirror mounted on the wall above it. Grayson turned her head to the left and saw a second white door which she could only assume was her closet. A white desk sat against the wall beside the closet with a closed Mac book resting neatly in the center of the desk. On the wall next to the door she was standing sat a white bookshelf that was filled from top to bottom with books of all different colors and sizes.
She stepped into the room and placed both of her bags on the pristine bed. She garnered some satisfaction from knowing that the bed wasn't as perfect as it was when she first laid eyes on it. She stepped up to the bookshelf and examined all the titles. Moby Dick, all seven Harry Potters, Lord of the Flies, Peter Pan, the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, an assortment of Stephan King novels, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Hunger Games and an odd mix of many more titles scattered across the six foot long and four foot high bookshelf.
Grayson stepped farther into her old room and looked down when the wooden floors beneath her creaked loudly. Her mouth agape and her blue eyes fixed on the white ceiling fan above her, she made up her mind. This room was way too white.
Kara leaned against the doorjamb as she watched her younger sister work. The windows were open and a cool breeze blew in through the room. The ceiling light and bedside lamp were both on. The clothes from her bags were already strewn messily across the bed and some of the drawers of the dresser were open and the closet door stood ajar.
Several posters lined the walls already, adding color to the pale room. A poster of the boy band One Direction was plastered to the inside of the closet door which Kara already knew was going to be perpetually open. Another poster of the Jonas Brothers was taped to the wall beside the bookshelf. A move poster of the fourth Harry Potter movie was taped to the wall above her nightstand and movie poster of The Hunger Games was taped to the wall behind her head board.
"This room needed some color." Grayson turned and met her sister's eyes. Kara always had to catch her breath when she looked at Grayson; she looked so much like their mother. Kara was only twelve when she died so there were only a handful of memories but they were enough.
Grayson had her collarbone brushing hair pulled back into a clip at the base of her neck. Her blue eyes were bright with concentration and resignation. Kara wished there was something other than age keeping her here. Kara knew that if Grayson were old enough, she would choose to live alone but she wasn't so she was stuck with Kara for the next two years.
Grayson wasn't tall. She only stood barely five feet tall but she was a tough little girl. She was stubborn just like their mom. She looked just like their mother did and Kara smiled. If only Grayson knew.
"Yeah, why was this room so white?" Kara shook herself and met her sister's eyes. "Uh, well," She turned her gaze away to look around the room. "It was bright pink when I came back and built for a six year old so I just renovated the whole thing and told myself that if you ever came to visit, you could do what you wanted with it." She looked back at her sister who was nodding slowly.
"Any ideas?" Grayson turned to look at her sister and paused. She thought about possible color schemes for only a few seconds before she shook her head. "I like it the way it is. Reminds me of a fresh start?" She turned to her sister. She hadn't meant to phrase it as a question but in the end, she guessed it was. Kara smiled gently and nodded slowly. "I like that."
They turned to the windows when a door slammed and Grayson stepped up to the window. "Isaac! Get back here! Isaac!" An older man with glasses and a face etched in anger stood on his front step with his hands on his hips as a boy about her age sped by on his bike down the road and away. The man stood angrily on the steps before shaking his head and turned back to his front door slamming it shut behind. Grayson could see the glass in the windows shaking; he'd slammed it so hard.
She turned to her sister with raised eyebrows. "Does that happen often?" Kara looked at her knotted fingers. Grayson waited but didn't get an answer. "Kara…" Her sister looked up and Grayson swallowed back what she was going to say. "I'm pretty sure that Isaac gets beaten on a regular occasion."
Grayson's eyes widened and she glanced over her shoulder back at the house. She turned back to her sister. "Did you report it?" Kara nodded and licked her lips. "Yeah. Several of us on the block have but the police can't seem to find anything wrong. Isaac won't say anything against his father and after a while, people stopped calling to complain." She shrugged.
Grayson looked down. "How often does it happen?" Kara turned away and bit her bottom lip. "Sometimes I hear him scream almost every night of the week." She shrugged again and turned troubled eyes back to her sister. "Sometimes it's quiet for a week. It depends." Grayson took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest. "On what?" Kara sagged and raised her arms, bringing them down with a loud slap. "I don't know, Gray. Sometimes it depends on what time dinner was on the table others are a little more complicated than that." Grayson looked away and nodded.
"How about some dinner, yeah?" She looked at Kara. Her sister was giving her a small, hopeful smile. She smiled gently back before nodding and licking her lips. "I was going to visit mom before dinner, if that's okay?" Kara stopped and turned in the doorway before slowly nodding. "You remember where it is?" Grayson nodded slowly. "Just up the road and around the corner." Kara nodded. "I'll text when dinner's almost ready." Grayson nodded and turned back to the window, staring at the still house across the street.
Something about the boy across the street drew her in. He was obviously from a troubled home but there was something else. Something deeper. Darker even. She pursed her lips and stood up, grabbing her jean jacket from the edge of her bed before swiftly descending the stairs.
As she stepped out into the cool winter air of California she noticed a boy about her age doing the same from next door. He was tall with blonde hair and a lean figure. He hadn't spotted her yet so she continued her examination of him.
His face was pretty but seemed to be stuck in a permanent scowl that took away from all aspects of his looks. His eyes looked too cold and hard and his forehead was going to wrinkle soon if he didn't ease up on the grimace.
"What are you looking at?" She looked up and met his icy gaze with her own. "You, clearly." He narrowed his already small eyes and sneered. "Well, take a picture. It'll last longer." Grayson rolled her eyes and walked down the steps, walking at a brisk pace towards the cemetery. "Hey, where are you going?" She didn't stop. "Why would I tell you that?"
He didn't respond but she heard him get into his car and start the engine. From the sounds of it, it was a nice and expensive car. She was right. Within seconds, a black Porsche pulled up beside her and rolled along with her stride. "I've never seen you before. Who are you?"
Grayson didn't look at him. "I'm your new neighbor." He scoffed. "You know Kara?" Grayson pretended like his tone of voice didn't bother her. "Yeah. Why?" He just shook his head and sneered. "She's a basket case. How do you know her?" She still didn't look over.
"Again, why should I tell you?" He chuckled. "Because I'm your new neighbor." Grayson stopped walking and he stopped his car, looking up at her expectantly. "I'm her sister." His expression didn't change. "I didn't know she had a sister." Grayson sneered. "Well, now you do."
She started walking again. "Where are you going? Do you need a ride?" She shook her head. "I don't make a point of accepting rides from strangers." He smiled and leaned back in his seat. "But I'm not a stranger." She licked her lips. "That remains to be seen." He rolled his eyes. "Just get in the car."
She stopped and turned on her heel to face him, her eyes burning. "Look, kid. I don't even know your name so run along to whatever play date daddy's scheduled for you and leave me alone." His face melted into a mask of pure furry but Grayson didn't back down. He sneered at her and looked her over once. "Fine, freak." She rolled her eyes at his pathetic attempt of a comeback and stepped back as he sped away, his tires squealing against the pavement as he disappeared into the slowly setting sun.
It was dark by the time she reached the cemetery and she regretted not bringing a flashlight. Her memories served her well, however, when her feet carried her to a part of the cemetery she vaguely recalled and she found herself in front of a polished grey stone with her mother's name carved into the face.
She cocked her head to the side and slowly lowered herself to the cool grass. She reached forward with her right hand and slowly traced the letters in her mother's name. CHANDLER ELIZABETH BECKER. Grayson pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. Beloved Mother, Wife and Sister was written below her name and above her birth and death dates. 1964-2002 was the last line on the tombstone. She was only 38 when she died. She was too young.
Grayson closed and thought of the most beautiful image she had of her mother. She opened her eyes seconds later when nothing came to her. Her chin trembled when she realized she couldn't come up with anything.
"It's been a long time, mom. Forever I feel." She chuckled slightly and shook her head, pressing the heel of her left hand to the space between her eyebrows. "I haven't been here since you were buried ten years ago." She gazed longingly at the stone. "I feel like a terrible daughter."
She looked at her feet and saw the small tattoo on the top of her right foot. A few months before she moved here, her sister came up and visited for Thanksgiving and took her to get the tattoo she'd always wanted. It was small pink cancer ribbon that rested just above her toes. A small C rested in the closed portion of the ribbon. It was for her mother.
"I talk to you sometimes when I'm lonely. I just tell you about what's going on in my life. I didn't want to move here. I mean, I know I have no other options and everything but I didn't want to come back here. All I can remember when I'm here is how sick you were and the funeral and all those crying people and how you…" She took a deep breath to steady herself.
"And how you died right before my seventh birthday." She felt the backs of her eyes burning and she blinked several times. "You promised me you would help me blow out the candles. You promised that you would wake me up at exactly the time I was born. That was the first year you were going to do it, mom. Do you remember?"
She swiped quickly at a single tear that leaked out of the corner of her eye. "I can't even remember what you look like on my own." She swallowed thickly and stared back at the name on the headstone. "Kara tells me I look just like you and daddy used to say that he would look at me just to see your eyes again."
A single sob fell from her lips and she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. A broken smile graced her lips. "How's daddy, mom? I hope he's okay, now. He was a mess, Ma, after you." She took a deep breath through her nose. "I'm just glad he's not in pain anymore." She brought a shaking hand up to the top of the headstone and gently ran her fingers of the ridged top. "I miss you, mommy. The only thing I have of you is your and daddy's wedding picture."
Grayson closed her eyes took a deep breath and licked her lips. Her mouth was dry and her eyes stung terribly with unshed tears. "You looked so beautiful, mom." She scanned the name again and ran her left hand over it. "I'll be back soon, okay?" She closed her eyes before slowly standing and brushing herself off.
She turned and stopped short when the boy from across the street, Isaac, stood leaning against a headstone a few feet away from her. His head was down but his eyes were looking directly at her.
She turned to look behind her before looking back at him, her hands buried deep in her back pockets. "How long have you been there?" He raised his head slightly and she forced herself not to flinch at the sight of the ghastly bruise just beginning to form around his left eye. His bottom lip was split open down the middle and he was tonguing it incessantly. "Long enough." His voice was as smooth as silk and sent shivers down her spine.
"What did you hear?" Isaac shrugged and pushed off of the headstone, his hands in his pockets. Grayson eyed him as he stepped around the headstone between them and stopped next to her, reading her mother's name. "I remember her." She turned her head to look at him. "What?"
His eyes met hers. Blue for blue. His eyes were fathomless and Grayson found herself already getting lost in them. "She was the librarian at the elementary school. She was nice. Always smiled at me."
Grayson nodded, remembering that somewhere in the back of her mind. "Yeah, she was always smiling." Isaac nodded and looked over at her. "I never saw you at school, though." She nodded and looked up at him. "I was homeschooled until she died." Isaac nodded wordlessly and turned his body so his front was facing her side. "Did you always live in that house?" She nodded again his eyebrows pulled together.
Grayson looked him over. He was tall and lean; she could see the coiled muscle hidden beneath his baggy clothes. His curls were a tussled mess a top his head and she just wanted to run her fingers through them. His face was thin and angular, his cheekbones jutting out into handsome shadows. "How come I never saw you?" Grayson flicked her gaze back up to his and shrugged, turned her body to face his. "I don't know. How come I never saw you?" She threw his question back at him.
He smiled slowly and his whole face changed. His lips pulled back to show off perfect white teeth and his eyes seemed brighter all of the sudden. His bottom lip was fuller than his upper lip but Grayson didn't mind. She thought it brought character to his smile. "I don't know." He gave her answer back to her.
She smiled and he looked at his feet. She reached into her jacket pocket when she felt her phone buzz. Kara said dinner was ready. She looked up at Isaac and her smile melted away. "I have to go." He looked up at her and nodded slowly. "Do you need a ride?" She narrowed her eyes before nodding.
He smiled wider and led her to a tree where his bike was locked. He leaned down to undo the lock and straightened. "Do you want to sit on the handlebars or stand on the back?" She smiled and carefully placed herself on the handlebars.
As he adjusted his position on the seat she leaned back as far as she was comfortable and felt his shoulder brush the middle of her back. "Don't let me fall." He chuckled and she could feel his breath against her neck. She shivered. "I'll never let you go." She felt a double meaning to his words.
It didn't take them long to reach the neighborhood and he came to a gentle stop when they reached her house. She slowly lowered herself to the sidewalk on shaky legs before turning to Isaac, who was still straddling the bike, and smiled. She brushed her hair behind her ear. "Thank you for giving me a ride." He nodded and looked up at her door. "Wouldn't want you to walk alone in the dark."
She nodded and looked back at her front door. She turned back to him. "I'll see you tomorrow?" He jerked his eyes down to hers and pulled his brows together. "School. I'm registering at Beacon Hills High tomorrow." She said, amused. He smiled and nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I guess you will." She smiled and watched him slowly walk his bike back across the street to his house.
When he disappeared inside she frowned. It wasn't long before the yelling started and she flinched when she heard the sound of glass breaking. She closed her eyes and turned to her own door. She easily got inside and pressed her back to the door.
She looked up at the ceiling and bit her bottom lip. A smile came to her face. Maybe Beacon Hills wasn't so bad after all. As she made her way to the kitchen, she absently wondered what else there was that could possibly greet her in this town.
She was in for a bumpy ride. At least she would have Isaac. Hopefully.
I'm writing another Teen Wolf Story! Obviously. But this one takes place all in season two and it's ultimately about Isaac. It's not going to coincide with Safe and Sound at all. It's going to be a totally different story on its own. No Keeva and baby Stiles just like there's no Grayson in Little Wonders. I was originally going to make Grayson a friend of Keeva's but I felt like that would be too difficult cause both stories are taking place in season 2 so this story stands all on its own. I'm excited about writing this story though, guys, because this one gets to be more of an original piece because I'm basing a lot of scenes on things that we don't see on screen. There will be some on screen stuff too but ultimately this is like a behind the scenes thing.
I hope you guys like it because, next to Stiles, Isaac is my favorite character and I wanted to write an Isaac/OC story so, review, review, review! Thanks.