Chapter 14
A/N: Took a bit longer than usual but what can I say? Summer break is officially over and work does expect me to do work related stuff W.w I know… Shocking right?
Thanks to the guests who left comments! it isn't an alternate universe, though I can see why it may seem like it. She went into the past and changed some key events which will have a butterfly effect. I did change some things, tweaked canon a bit and then simply filled in the blanks myself which may have thrown you off a bit.
I can see why it seems fast that's cuz it is, from arrival she only had approximately five days until the meeting between Gerard and Deucalion would take place. Meaning it indeed was fast XD.
There are things we don't want to happen but have to accept.
Things we don't want to know but have to learn and
people we can't live without, but have to let go.
-unknown-
Deaton hooks up an IV to Malia's arm, observing as the young woman's eyes move behind her eyelids.
''What do you suppose she's dreaming of?'' Talia mutters, lifting her tired head from the bed as she repositions in her chair.
''Good things, hopefully.'' he responds, leaving the room and the house quietly. He gives Deucalion and Dean a ride back to their lodgings.
…
She doesn't remember the last time she felt this happy, surrounded by her pack. No one seems to be tense, no talks of strategy or impending doom, just coffee, pancakes, family and Sheila.
She watches as the whole pack talks and laughs. Relishing in all the miniscule details, basking in the warmth of Scott's arm over her shoulder, Stiles' coffee hyped rant, Lydia's soft perfume scent.
Strangely enough they're the only ones there…
''Daddy, Theo is being mean again!'' Sascha whines from the play corner.
Frowning Malia turns to her, when did Theo get here? Looking around she can't see Theo anywhere all she sees is Sascha pointing at some random kid.
''Theodore Noah Stilinski.'' Lydia warns, addressing this strange boy.
Shocked Malia looks over at Lydia and Stiles, ''Theodore?''
All the apologies in the world wouldn't have fixed what Theo had done in the past. Yes they healed, yes he was a part of the pack, yes he was forgiven but they'd never forgotten. And Stiles of all people wouldn't have named his child after him, something is off about this situation. Something is seriously wrong.
''It's only fair after all he did die protecting me, making it possible for us to even have Theodore.'' Lydia smiled.
''What?'' she asks, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed.
''Come on Mal, you remember, you were there when the hunters found us. Theo and you managed to hold them off while I ran with Alexander, they captured you two. You didn't really talk much about what happened afterwards but you say that Theo was dead.'' Lydia explains, as if she should know it but she doesn't, at least not like Lydia just explained it.
Blinking a memory flashes before her eyes. It's similar enough; her, Theo, Lydia and Alexander running as the footsteps start to close in on them. Feet slapping against the forest floor, mud squishing as they struggle to keep moving. Staying together on instinct but splitting by necessity, if they didn't then they'd all get caught and that wasn't an option. She shifts Alexander's weight in her arms, carefully handing him over to Theo who looks at her wide eyed and about to protest. Theo not Lydia.
It wasn't Lydia who ran with Alex but Theo, he was the fastest off the three of them and still uninjured making him the logical choice. She and Lydia fought with all their might expecting them to go for the kill unfortunately reality was much crueler. She remembers hearing it all, every defiant sassy response, every clever quip, every cry, every scream and every plea. She remembers threshing around trying to escape her restraints, fighting through the haze of the wolfsbane cocktail they'd pumped into her. She remembers breaking free, stumbling around the halls using the walls as support as similar cries of sorrow filled her ears, carefully avoiding corridors where she heard the guards thumping footsteps. She remembers finally reaching the room, the room where…
''Hey, you okay?'' Scott asks, brown eyes filled with love and concern. ''It was a long time ago and Theo died for a good cause, he died an honorable death.''
Nodding she turns to the brown haired boy, Theodore, playing with her daughter. ''Gift of god.'' she whispers as the meaning pops into her head.
Stiles laughs, seemingly ignoring Malia's state of mind. ''Or divine gift depending on the language it's derived from, fitting for miracles like them.''
Slowly chewing, Malia leans into Scott some more, trying to forget about her weird mis-remembrance. Of course Lydia was alive, how could she think otherwise, what would she even do if Lydia had died? She can't even imagine- ''Them?''
Lydia nods, humming. ''Theodore may mean divine gift but Sascha means protector, defender of mankind. I thought it was a little on the nose for Scott's kid but it is a pretty name.''
''Protector, defender of mankind?'' Malia asks, dread filling her as she looks toward the approaching children.
Sascha climbs onto her lap, doe-eyes looking straight into her soul. ''I protected Alexander good, didn't I mommy?'' the girl asks, reaching up to stroke her cheek softly.
Her breath hitches. She blinks and then the child's weight is gone, ''Where'd she- Where did Sascha go?''
Scott smiles tilting his head at the question. ''Who's Sascha?''
…
''Where did Sascha go.''
''That's all she said?'' Peter asks, leaning against the kitchen wall.
Nodding Talia sits down into one of the dining room chairs, ''All I was able to make out anyways.''
''So who's this Sascha?'' Derek joins his mother at the kitchen table, visible bedhead. ''Also who's Malia anyways?''
The adults tense at the question, what should they say? The others in the house perk up as well, wanting to know who Malia truly was.
Peter walks over to the kitchen cabinets, taking out some breakfast items he nonchalantly throws the answer over his shoulder. ''Your aunt.''
''I don't have an aunt?...''
Cracking an egg into the pan Peter ignores his nephew's questioning gaze. Why must he explain this mess to his nephew and all the eavesdroppers; he doesn't.
''You do now. Her name's Malia and she's our half-sister.'' Talia answers, nodding at her brother as everyone else slowly joined them in the kitchen.
Silence reigned over the kitchen, you could hear a pin drop as the house's occupants processed this key piece of information.
Talia wondered if she would have to repeat this strange ritual again in about ten years with a different Malia. Having seen this one she wonders if she'd done the right thing placing the coyote with the Tate family, had she done what was right or what she had thought right?
James pondered on the impact this would have on their family. This sealed the deal, whether Malia lived through this or not was of no consequence. She was a Hale and Hale's took care of each other, till the bitter end. And bitter it would be if she died before getting to know one another.
Peter couldn't take his eyes off the sizzling bacon, though it wasn't the sound of the sizzling that ran through his ears. A soft thumping wouldn't leave his ears. This wasn't uncommon, it happened a lot when Caroline was close. His ears would unconsciously focus on the flutter of the baby's heartbeat but this time his ears focused on something louder, his ears bypassed the soft flutter and focused on a louder thumping. The slow, weakened thump of the were-coyote's heart. His sister? Should he even call her that, does he want to?
Caroline watched as everyone fell silent at the revelation. They all looked to be in deep thought, processing the news thinking about the implication of it. The Paralegal in her wanted to suggest a dna test to confirm it but in this case it seemed futile, the results already clear. Who needs a dna test when you have super senses?
Laura was perplexed, this woman wasn't on their family tree and every Hale should be or at least in the alpha's ledger. Her mother knew it by heart and instilled the importance of knowing it from memory, had she known? Looking back at her mother's reactions over the last couple days she's almost 100% certain she was in the dark about this just as much as the rest of them. To say it was shocking would be an understatement.
Derek looked on as his uncle seemed to move robotically, he watched his mother sit at the table unmoved unusually quiet. An aunt, what was that like? What was she like? Did she know he was her nephew, is that why she chose to save Paige? For him? Because they're family? His eyes drifted to the staircase wondering if he'd get to give her a bouquet of flowers in thanks soon or if he'd be placing one on her grave.
Paige twiddled with her fingers, uncomfortable with this whole situation. She isn't family, should she be hearing this? Should she even be here anymore? She looked around nervously, maybe she should've left when the doctor, his assistant and other men this morning.
Cora blinked owlishly at her mother's words. How could she be mom's sister when they didn't even know her? She knows all her siblings… how'd her mom and uncle just forget they had another sister? Weird. Laying her head back on the couch she lets her eyes drift closed once more.
Alexander thought about it for a second before realizing that this was even better, now he would see her even more! They'd become best buds like him and uncle Peter. She could come over for family dinner, they could play games and she could even bring him to school. Yes, then he can introduce her to all his friends and his teachers.
A ringing phone breaks the silence, looking at one another everyone tries to gauge who's phone it was. Focusing on the sound Talia lets it lead her to a drawer in the hall, picking it up she looks at the caller ID which displayed social worker. What would Malia have a social worker for?
Flipping the phone open she answers, ''Good morning, Talia Hale speaking.''
''Good morning, Miss Hale. My name is Tessa Collins. I'm calling for Miss Stitch, is she there? Or did I perhaps dial the wrong number?''
Talia can hear fluttering of paper on the other side of the line, the social worker flipping through her paperwork to see if she called the right number most likely. ''No, you have the right number. You're the social worker right?''
The fluttering of paper stops, ''Oh good, could I speak to her?''
''I'm sorry but Malia can't come to the phone right now, there was an accident last night and she has a bad concussion.'' Talia says.
''Oh dear, how horrible. Can I ask who you are to Miss Stitch for the record?''
''I'm-'' Looking at her family she gathers the courage to say it, ''she's my younger sister, half-sister actually.'' It was one thing to say it among family but to admit it out loud to a stranger was harder than she imagined. It felt like she said some forbidden words, told her a secret that wasn't hers to tell and yet at the same time she felt liberated, like a weight was lifted off her shoulders.
''Talia Hale, noted. Any relation to the twins?'' the social worker questioned.
Twins… Debating on how to answer she settled on revealing as little as possible. ''Only through Malia.''
The social worker mmm'd, ''So no relation to Andre or the twins?''
''No direct relation no.''
''So you're the other half…'' the social worker mumbled softly to herself unaware of the fact that the Hale's could hear every word. Speaking up the social worker continued, ''Alright, well as you may know we had a pick up scheduled today, the twins were very excited to see their aunt however considering the circumstances we should reschedule.''
''We're not sure when Malia will be well again so is it an option that we pick up the twins in her stead?'' From what she understood out of this conversation is that Malia has another family besides them, but what kind? Considering that the children, her nephews?, were in the custody of social services there were few options and none were desirable.
''I'm afraid not, seeing as you have no direct relation to the twins. How about we set up a meeting for next week, 13.00 at the office in DoveValley, it's right next to our police station. And if Miss Stitch wants to pick up earlier or later if she is still suffering from her injuries, you can let me know through this number.''
''Thank you, we'll do that.'' Talia says as she scribbles the data down on a scrap of paper.
''Alrighty! My prayers are with you, have a nice day!'' the social worker exclaims before hanging up.
Turning to her family Talia heaves a sigh, this was only getting more complicated.
''Sooo, a new aunt and cousins...'' Derek drags out.
''The more the merrier?'' James asks uncertain, hands turned up in question.
''I'm not sharing my room!'' Cora yells from her spot on the couch.
…
''I think the hunters tracked us here,'' Stiles says as he packs his bag. ''Malia grab your stuff, we need to go right now!''
''What do you mean? Where are we? Where is Sascha?'' Malia says bewildered by her surroundings. Wasn't she just at Sheila's diner with Scott, Lydia, Stiles and the children?
Squatting down next to her motel room bed Stiles holds her face between his hands, ''Malia, we need to go the hunters are on our tail.''
''No. No, that was a dream. A- a night terror…'' she whispers as cold dread seeps into her bones. ''I want Scott… where's Scott?'' She pleads.
''Mal…'' he sighs.
Looking at him she sees a man worn down by life, a man who'd stared too long into the abyss and found it gazing back at him only to feel nothing, living on the edge ready and willing to jump in at a second's notion. A survivor with a beating heart, a dead man walking with the eyes to match. He's Schrodinger's cat; not quite alive nor confirmed dead. But then again weren't they all at this point.
She turns her head away from him, tears filling her eyes. ''Why do we even bother?''
Stiles doesn't answer. After getting separated from the pack he'd had a difficult time finding his way back, it didn't help that he got stranded in Mexico without knowing Spanish. It took him months to find his way back to the States and then even more before he managed to catch up to the pack while evading the hunters.
All the while trying his best to ignore the pieces of news he managed to pick up on, most of which was simply propaganda; lies which told the world that he and other high ranking 'rebels' or 'monsters' had been executed while showing the world some random prisoner getting shot or hung. It was jarring at first for them and the supernatural world, scary when the pack was scattered and they simply couldn't know if it was true or not. But they gradually got used to it like every other horror they had learned to live with. You either adapt or you die and even if you adapted it didn't guarantee life.
He remembers arriving at the safe house, his usually hunger clenched stomach tickling with butterflies as he ran up the gravel road, knowing that his family was there. He ran, tripping over his own feet as he stumbled to the door, towards his brother, towards his wife, towards his family. His beautiful wife, oh how he'd missed her. Laughing out loud at how angry and happy she would be to finally see him again, he could already see her scrunched up face trying to seem angry when she was really just terribly worried about him as he had been for her.
He laughed that day, he can't remember laughing since. The day he found out his wife, the love of his life, his soulmate had been killed. He'd wanted nothing more than to bury himself in his brother's arms and shut down completely, shut out the world and mourn his loss. He should've known the world was far too cruel to allow that. Instead of his brother, there stood his brother's widow strung tight as a bow as she told him of his wife's and brother's deaths. She held him up as he crumbled to the ground like his entire world just had.
Rubbing her hand he looks up at her and sees a broken woman, numb to the pain, unable to let even a drop of it in lest she be flooded and drowned in her sorrows. He wants to encourage her to fight, to live, to be everything he didn't think he could be anymore.
''We owe it to them.'' he says, trying not to sound as discouraged as he was.
She looks at Stiles, a joyless smile gracing her face, ''I'm tired Stiles, aren't you tired?''
''Exhausted but if we don't fight then who will, Malia? Who will avenge them? Who will keep the truth alive if we lay down and die?''
''Can we though? We're losing the war if you hadn't noticed. We protect those that cannot protect themselves only works if there are people left to protect…''
Stiles smiled at her, a cold smile that couldn't reach his eyes even if it tried. ''Then we go back to the old code; we hunt those who hunt us. What do we have to lose at this point?''
''We've been killing for a while now Stiles, hunting those who hunt us, but we're still losing.''
He shrugs, ''The way I see it we're dead anyways, why not take as many of them with us while we're at it? Aren't you tired of running?''
Sitting up straight Malia scrunches her face up in confusion. She and Stiles did have this talk but the conversation ended differently, they never talked about the codes or revenge, expanding the body count; proving them to be the monsters the humans feared… no they'd talked of solutions, of- a rumor, yes a rumor of a powerful druid but why had they done that? What made this druid so special?
…
''So she doesn't want us.'' Aiden grumbles angrily, they'd already been with the Jones' for days and they didn't get nicer as time went on.
Tessa, their social worker, shook her head. ''No Aiden, it means she'll come and get you guys when she gets better.''
''Like how you told us cousin Felix was coming to get us?'' Ethan says, dejected at yet another rejection.
''Cousin Felix was a bit too young to take you guys.'' Tessa tried to smooth over, even though she didn't know why the young man had suddenly declined to take the boys. He'd seemed eager until the pickup date, perhaps he saw how well they were doing at the Jones' and decided to leave them with this nice couple.
A large man leaned in the door opening of the boys' bedroom, ''Another no show?'' he asked, sounding nice to most but there was an undertone of satisfaction.
''An emergency came up but do not worry mister Jones, she'll be picking up the twins later this week.'' Tessa smiled kindly at mister Jones.
Smiling kindly at the social worker, his cold eyes slowly sweep over the twins. ''No worries though we love having the twins here. As you know I knew their parents very well, one could almost say intimately, in Katherine's case of course.''
He chuckled as the social worker smiled politely at the handsome man, ''We were high school sweethearts you know, so it almost feels like the twins are my kids in a way as well.''
''How sweet.'' Tessa says, preening in mister Jones' presence.
''They could've passed as mine if only they didn't resemble their father so much…''
If their social worker hadn't been so starstruck by mister Jones she might've caught on to the strange tone of his voice, the possessiveness of their late mother or perhaps she would have noticed the twins shrink in on themselves as his shadow darkened their doorstep. But Tessa Collins was too busy basking in a handsome man's attention to notice any of these things, condemning the twins to a fate unknown.
…
''This is the morning news with Janice and Mike.
Tragedy strikes on Beacon preserve, elderly couple found dead. More on the curious case of Johnathon Baylon, the next door monster.
We'll start this morning with more on Johnathon Baylon the pedophile who lived and hunted right under the noses of Beacon Counties finest. We have it on good authority that there were at least five bodies of young preteen girls found buried in his yard and one survivor that was rescued by authorities-''
''Mommy?!'' Alicia yells excitedly.
''Oh baby, you shouldn't be watching that.'' Harper Boyd says turning the tv off, it had been running the same news report since that morning.
Alicia turns to her mother, ''But mommy…'' she whines, ''Daddy's friend was on tv.''
Harper froze in her steps back to the kitchen, heart thundering in her chest. Her mouth felt as dry as sand as she turns back, ''Who-'' she breathes, ''Who's daddy's friend?'' she asks, trying to remain calm.
''On the tv, John is daddy's friend.'' Alicia answers not realizing the panic her words invoke in her mother.
Rushing over to her, Harper bends down face to face. ''How do you know- John?'' she squeezes out painfully, fearing the answer. Denial setting in, maybe she knew him from the ice cream parlor? But why would she call him Dante's friend then?
''From the ice rink.''
Shit shit shit, ''What do you mean sweetie? Explain it to mommy, mmm?''
''Thursday at the ice rink mama, Boyd got tired so he went to get a drink but I kept skating. John saw me, he knew daddy and he had something to give us from daddy but it was at his house.'' Alicia frowned thinking about what happened next, wanting to tell it right.
''What happened next?'' Harper asked with bated breath.
''I took his hand and we were gonna go to his house-''
Harper's heart stuttered at her daughter's confession, her baby didn't even realize the danger she'd been in.
''But then Malia called my name, she was really fast on the ice momma you should've seen her.''
Tears gathered in her eyes as her throat clogged up, ''Malia?'' Her daughter nodded.
Giggling, Alicia continued, ''Yeah she wasn't even wearing skates. She told me to go back to Boyd and yelled stranger danger.''
''What happened then?'' Harper asked as she tried to recall any Malia's she knew.
Alicia shrugs, ''Daddy's friend was gone and Malia said she had to go to work. Do you think Malia will be at the dinner again? She's funny.''
Then it clicked; Malia, the soldier at Sheila's… she grasped her daughter and hugged her tightly, tears leaking from her eyes as the news report flashed through her mind.
''This is the morning news with Janice and Mike.
Tragedy strikes on Beacon preserve, elderly couple found dead. More on the curious case of Johnathon Baylon, the next door monster.
We'll start this morning with more on Johnathon Baylon the pedophile who lived and hunted right under the noses of Beacon Counties finest. Able to fly under authorities' radars for nearly 20 years, Johnathon Baylon kidnapped six girls. Every three years he kidnapped a girl alternating between Caucasian and African-American to throw authorities off his scent. He'd end up killing five, the last girl surviving by pure luck being rescued as Baylon's body was discovered torn apart by a wild animal.
Nature's justice?
Indeed, Mike justice indeed, but there's more.
Five bodies were found buried in his yard but if that wasn't gruesome enough, the authorities found a freshly dug grave… An empty grave, most likely intended for the surviving girl. The question lingering in all of our minds is, what poor child was his next target?
Disturbing indeed Janice.
…
''Is it weird that I don't want to leave her?'' Paige asks quietly.
Laura turns to her smiling kindly, ''Not at all, don't worry though we're staying. You should really go home before your parents suspect you and Derek pulled a Romeo and Juliet or something.''
Smiling softly, Paige padded Malia's hand once more before letting herself be led out by Talia.
Laura brushed a stray hair out of Malia's face, ''It's weird to think that you're only like six years older than me, to be fair Peter is only five years older so we're more like siblings… sorry let me introduce myself.'' she said grasping her hand lightly, ''My name is Laura Hale, I'm nineteen years old and you're sort of my aunt.''