Chapter Fourteen: Action and Consequence

Three months passed by slowly after Matt's death.

Derek took care of Lyra as best as he could, holding her when she cried, and helping her work out her anger and grief in healthy ways; running, weight training, and hand to hand combat, mostly. Her mind seemed to bury itself in her work, in her training, in her time with the others.

Abby stayed the entire time, and she was never far from her sister's side. As Derek had predicted, the sisters disappeared for a day following the bleak funeral. Derek had found them later at the peak, surrounded by empty whiskey bottles. And to no one's surprise, they bore a tribute to Matt in the shape of a new tattoo. It was the thick, detailed outline of an old oak tree, which Lyra had tattooed along the right side of her ribcage, so the branches reached out along her back and under her breast, and the roots spread along the curve of her hip. Abby had a smaller version on the inside of her forearm.

Later, Abby had explained how it had been customary for their pack to bury their dead and to plant a tree. Since they couldn't bury Matt with the others from their old pack, they got the oak tree inked into their skin in memory. Abby said she had promised Lyra she would etch Matt's birthday and date of death onto his parent's trees when she returned to Colorado.

Derek sighed, looking over at Lyra, who was sleeping quietly in the middle of their bed on her stomach. She was naked from the waist up, wearing flannel briefs that left little to the imagination. His eyes traced the newest addition to her tattoo collection. So now it was the tree, the quotes on her arm and shoulder, the circles, the Latin word for alpha, and the triskelion. He shook his head, figuring by the time they were old and gray, she'd be covered from head to toe with them.

Lyra woke up on a soft groan, rolling onto her back. Her drowsy eyes met Derek's. "You watching me sleep? Again?"

Derek sat down next to her. "How are you feeling?"

Lyra frowned. "Getting sick of people asking me that, that's for sure."

"Lyra..."

She sighed, sitting up and drawing her knees up. "Better today, I guess. I didn't wake up crying, so I'm taking that as a good sign," she muttered bitterly.

Derek rubbed her back. "Do you need anything?"

Lyra looked at him, then shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I have to go to work in a little while though."

"Do you want-,"

"Derek, stop. Please."

Derek saw the hard look in Lyra's eyes. She looked frustrated, but he couldn't tell if it was with him or with herself.

"I don't need to be coddled," she told him. "I'm a big girl. I'll...deal."

"But you don't have to deal with this alone," he reminded her.

Lyra glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "I know. It's hard to do so when you or Abby are shadowing me like you've been doing for weeks."

"We just want-,"

"I know. I know," she repeated more softly. She smiled and rested a hand on his cheek. "I'm not complaining, I hope you know that. I appreciate everything you've done. But part of this, I'll have to figure out on my own. My grief isn't just yours to carry."

Derek leaned forward, pushing his forehead into hers. "I know you're strong and you'll get through this. But I don't mind carrying some of it for you."

Lyra kissed him gently. "I love you."

Then she stood, moving into the bathroom.

Derek watched her go, before turning his gaze towards the window and to the woods surrounding the house. There was someplace he needed to be.

Ooo0ooO

The sheriff watched as Lyra typed up some reports, her eyes staring listlessly at the computer screen. Her hair was pulled away from her face, which was bare, and her wide, tired eyes were shadowed with dark circles.

He leaned back in his chair, absently scratching the back of his head. He knew that she had lost her oldest friend and he could see she was pretty torn up about it. He was surprised she still showed up for work.

Lyra had told him it was a way to distract herself, to make herself feel normal rather than always being on the cusp of breaking down completely.

Standing, he walked over to the break room, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee. He grabbed one for Lyra too, then made his way over to her. He set down through mug in front of her.

She blinked and looked up at him, her eyes a pale lavender color. "Oh, thanks, sheriff."

Leaning against her desk, he looked down at her. "How are you holding up?"

Something flickered in her gaze, but it disappeared. "I'm plugging through. How's Stiles?"

"At the college, in class, hopefully. He and Scott seem distracted, what with everything going on..."

Lyra picked up the coffee, her eyes sliding away. "I'm sure he's fine," she murmured.

"Look, Lyra, if you're tired or need some more time... I would understand why."

She shook her head. "I'll be okay. It's just..." she trailed off, exhaling deeply. She looked up at him again. "You know what I would usually do if I felt this way?"

"What?"

Her smile was pained. "I'd call Matt. With all of this, with the wolves and Peter... Matt knew what to say to make me laugh." Her gaze dropped to the golden rings on her left finger. "Derek understands and God, he loves me and is worried, but..."

"Matt was your friend. It's different."

Lyra nodded. "We grew up together, you know? His dad was Beta to mine, and I trained with him almost every day. Then they died and I thought he did too... then suddenly, he was there again. Now yes really dead and I... I..." Her breath hitched, eyeing filling with tears. "It's like losing all of them again, all at once."

The sheriff rested a hand on her shoulder, meeting her watery gaze. "When I lost my wife, I thought I was dying too. I didn't know what to do or how to move on... But I had Stiles, so I took care of my son, and every day I would see Claudia in him, in his eyes or his smile. That made it easier almost, because it was like she left a piece of herself behind." The sheriff squeezed her shoulder. "My point is, Lyra, is that you got people in your life that will make it easier, if you let them. It's not about not being alone, people can feel alone no matter where they are, but it's the opening up to all that hurt and all that anger that seems impossible. But if you keep it buried inside you, that's what will kill you. Not some deranged werewolf. Some times the biggest risk we take is letting people in."

Lyra looked down, the tears leaking down her cheeks. "But how do I let him go?"

The sheriff leaned back a little, letting his hand fall away. "You remember that even though they're gone, a part of them never really leaves you."

Ooo0ooO

Derek walked through the forest, approaching the old mill, his boots crunching the leaves that were scattered along the path. His expression was set and grim.

When he walked inside, his eyes shifted to a chained figure and the other man standing there.

Isaac turned to look at him. "How's Lyra?"

Derek just shook his head before looking at his uncle, who was shackled, blindfolded, and gagged to the cement floors. Even though his uncle couldn't speak, he could still hear, and Peter was known for his eavesdropping.

Isaac looked at that older werewolf as well. "He's not talking. He still won't tell me where his buddies disappeared to."

Peter lulled his head to the side, lifting a brow, and mumbling through the gag.

Derek frowned, looking him over. "Doesn't matter. With his second in command dead, I don't know if his goons will come back anytime soon. Not without him, and not when they know Lyra has their scent."

More muffled mumbling came from Peter.

"But maybe I should tell Lyra we have him," Derek considered, his expression clouding. "Let her have her revenge."

Peter visibly paled.

Isaac lifted a brow. "That won't be pretty," he said to Peter. "Especially now that you made her change into what you want to be again... I don't think anyone could stop her from ripping you apart, Peter. Hell, we won't stop her. Maybe we'd even help."

Derek circled his uncle. "But you know what kills me? Sorry, bad joke. Even after what you did, she could have killed you, she could have ripped your lungs out but she didn't. I don't know why, but I do know how. But that doesn't mean the next time she'll make the same call. I could only imagine what she would want to do with you if she found you here..."

With that, Derek and Isaac left the weakened, older wolf locked inside the mill. As they walked back, Isaac looked over at Derek. "So how is Lyra? Really."

Derek blew out a breath. "She's not good, Isaac. I don't know what to do for her. She's just... there, but she gets this look..."

After a few moments of quiet, Isaac spoke up again. "Do you think these scare tactics are really working on him? Peter?"

Derek shrugged. "I hope so. All I know is I have no idea what Lyra would do if she ever saw him again. We can try and say she'd kill him, but..." He shook his head. "Lyra only kills when she's driven to, when she's pushed past the last bit of humanity tying her down, when she's pure wolf. If she was given the choice... I don't know if she'd let him walk, though."

"It has to be her choice, not ours," Isaac pointed out.

"I know," Derek sighed. "I just wish I knew how to make this all end so we can... I don't know, have a semblance of a normal life."

Isaac clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, good luck with that."

Derek almost smiled.

Ooo0ooO

The wind was cool as it whispered through the trees and grass. It brought the smell of the woods, the wild flowers, and warm, rich earth.

Sitting alone, cross legged in the grass, Lyra stared at the grave marker in front of her. Then, slowly, she reached out, placing a hand against the cool stone.

"Hey, Matty," she whispered. She swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry I haven't come to see you since the funeral. I just..." She looked down at her hands. "I just wish you were here, you know? I miss you... God, Matt, I miss you so much."

Her chest ached as she continued.

"I know what you would say if you were here. 'Keep going, Ly. Isn't that why you got the stupid tattoo in the first place?'" She laughed a little. "Yeah, I guess so. I just can't help but think..." She looked up, blinking rapidly. Then she took a breath. "I just can't help but think this is all my fault," she confessed, her voice cracking. "Maybe if I had gotten there sooner, or if I told you to stay in Colorado with the others... Maybe you'd still be here."

Lyra lowered her head, her chin nearly brushing her chest.

"But some part of me, this voice, is telling me that I could have stopped it even if I had tried." She glanced at the grave, a slight smile twisting her lips. "It sounds like you. And I know I can't keep imagining what could have happened... but Matty, how am I supposed to just let you go? The sheriff says that a part of you will never really leave me, but what is that?"

There was a strong gust of wind, and Lyra pushed the hair from her eyes.

"Lyra?"

Lyra turned and saw Abby approaching her. Her sister knelt in the grass besides her, gazing at her. "What are you doing here all alone?"

Lyra stared at her. Abby's eyes were light blue, like Matt's had been.

I would see Claudia in him, in his eyes or his smile...

Lyra felt as though her chest was about to give in, like something was pushing down and making it impossible to breathe.

Was it really that... easy?

Suddenly, she heard someone else coming. It was Isaac, his own blue eyes on hers, as he smiled. He sat down too, and she realized Derek was right behind him.

Surrounded by three people she loved the most, sitting with the memory and pain of losing her friend, Lyra realized it wasn't easy, no, but that didn't mean she had to shoulder it all on her own.

So she reached for Derek's hand, and leaned her head on Isaac's shoulder. She met her sister's gaze, who seemed to read her mind and she smiled a little, nodding in understanding.

Lyra closed her eyes, and pictured Matt, young and eighteen, smiling at her at their home in Colorado. She remembered his laugh and she remembered what it felt like when he found her again. She remembered him smiling at her at her wedding and how he had made her laugh when they told old stories as they danced together.

She remembered how brave he was, how kind and true, and she smiled, finally realizing that letting someone go didn't mean forgetting them. It meant knowing they'd always be with you, even if they weren't by your side anymore.

Ooo0ooO

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.

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