Chapter 63: The Break

...yet my senses tell a different story.

"I'm still finding hair everywhere, Delgado. I've vacuumed twice, it should not be possible. It's like your hair defies some basic concept of conventional physics. It's bad enough that everything's covered in blood, but your hair in the mix just makes it incredibly unsanitary."

"I can hear you're talking, Jimmy-boy," Joe said from where she sat on the kitchen island in their apartment, "but I'm about to enjoy my first cup of coffee in months, so I don't really give a shit."

"Have you seen the bleach? No, wait, here it is." His voice came from the bathroom, accompanied by some rummaging. "Maybe you should stay away from caffeine now that you've already kicked your addic- you're already drinking, aren't you?"

"Mmm," Joe moaned and it was good. As she hadn't had sex in forever, it was the closest thing to an orgasm she could find. If there was any truth in that she and Derek shared pleasure as well as pain, she hoped he appreciated the little boost. "This is ah-ma-zing."

"You're disgusting, that's what you are. Do I need to remind you that there are children in the vicinity?"

"It's child, singular, and she's still unconscious."

"It's the principle of things."

Quietly agreeing, Joe decided not to comment. Focusing on the coffee, Joe tried to avoid thinking too much. There was a lot to think about and it kind of hurt her head. It had taken them hours, with a lot of angry shouting at each other, but they finally had Erica slumbering in Joe's bed. Healing, or at least not actively dying.

She was still unconscious, but Jimmy had brought out some kind of herb that was supposed to help her heal from an Alpha wound. And it was some wound too. With a literal hole through her stomach, Joe could not understand how she had managed to get from the Preserve to the laundromat. According to Jimmy, she had probably been driven by instincts — just like Joe.

During one of their many conversations, because what else was there to do but talk in the vault, Erica had mentioned how Derek said she had a higher pain tolerance than the guys. As Joe understood it, female werewolves had a higher tolerance in general, but Erica was special still because of her epilepsy. She'd been at war with her body for as long as she could remember and come out on top. No matter the pain tolerance, Joe could not wrap her head around anyone going a whole day as she had without bleeding out. Human bodies were weird in general though, and it didn't get easier if you added lycanthropy into the mix. It was not an exact science.

It was well into the afternoon now, Joe mused as she studied the sky outside. She and Jimmy had both slept in Joe's room taking turns watching over Erica and siphoning pain when they could. Jimmy had amended his initial statement on how literally every step of the plan failed — it had still failed, and they had somehow ended up exactly where they wanted to be. Everyone out of the Alphas' clutches and alive, Erica believed to be dead.

It made Joe worry even more about this being part of a bigger plan. Too many coincidences.

Then there was Derek. The tension she had feared and expected between them was palatable. The tables had turned, hadn't they? Now she was the one keeping the full truth from him and she would appreciate the irony if it wasn't so heartbreaking.

She just wished she knew if she could trust him. If she could trust anyone.

After he had made her aware of it, she was hyperfocused on if she was adapting or in denial. Last night only emphasized it — she had thought Erica was a hallucination; imagery her brain conjured to deal with her overwhelming sense of guilt. If she was honest, she still wasn't fully convinced it was real.

On one hand, it was amazing how resilient the human mind was. On the other, she knew realistically she should be feeling the aftermath more. Same with Jimmy, but he was already holding onto his human side with iron-clad restraints.

Jimmy, with eyes still glowing, swept into the kitchen. Rustling sounds as he dug through the cupboard for non-expired tea bags, a short growl when he couldn't find any. Eventually, they would have to deal with the fridge, and Joe feared it would be her job since she had the human sense of smell. Groceries, cleaning, laundry...

The everydayness of those problems nearly overwhelmed her.

"Are you okay?" Jimmy asked absentmindedly as he apparently tried to decide if the unmarked loose tea leaves were drinkable.

"How are you so normal?" she asked, blinking at him.

Of course, the purple glow became more prominent as he raised his eyebrows at her in disbelief. "Because I have to be. Because I know what the alternative is and I'd rather not go down that route again." He paused, staring into nothing. "However tempting it might be at times."

"I get that," Joe whispered. There were times she wanted to turn off her mind as well. It was easier, she supposed, to let loose and embrace the animal side. Driven by needs and instincts instead of cognitive thought. Jimmy had spent almost two months in that state. And while she could see how it might be tempting, she understood clearly why he would never let that happen again. "Where do we go from here, Jim?"

"We heal, first of all," he said easily, still with his back to her, busying himself with the tea kettle. "Then you get your priorities straight and we take it from there. I'm with you regardless. Ride or die, right?"

It sounded so easy when he said it like that. Ride or die. She shifted the coffee mug around in her hands, liking the warmth on her skin. "I can't fail her again."

His movements slowed, but did not stop.

"And Cora is safe if she is away from me," Joe continued, not recognizing her own voice. "She'll hate me, but she'll understand." Pragmatic and resilient — just like her brother. "Both her and Boyd."

"Knowing what the Alpha pack wants, you think she's safer with Derek?"

Joe nodded and looked down even if Jimmy wasn't facing her. "He's stronger than me. They won't get inside his head. Cora and Boyd, they're both safest with him." She pulled in a long breath. "Erica is safe here, but only if everyone thinks she's dead."

If no one could manipulate Joe into killing her again.

Joe had already told Jimmy about Derek's strange statement on how Isaac saw Erica's dead body in the vault before the full moon. It should not be possible. From what Scott told her, the Alphas had used their claws on Isaac to make him forget what he'd seen. To Joe, it sounded like they had implanted false memories as well, layers of them actually, and used him as bait. Where had she been when this happened? She could not remember seeing Isaac and he obviously hadn't seen her. Or they'd both been made to forget.

Without thinking, her fingers brushed over the exposed skin on the back of her neck. No scars.

Jimmy put the kettle on and turned around with his arms crossed over his bare chest, his surgical incision just a faint line on his ribcage. "And your own safety?"

"Not prioritized."

His glare never wavered. "How about your professor?"

A crack resounded in the apartment as Joe broke the handle off her coffee mug. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe. "Undecided. Have you been able to reach Kelly?"

"Not responding to my e-mails. From what I could gather through some sleuthing-"

"Stalking."

"-she's alive and well. We'll know more after we see your professor and you get your phone back. I don't want to jump to conclusions." He broke off, looking to the side. "If we're lucky, she just assumed I lost interest. From what she's told me before, it wasn't unusual for you two to go months without talking at least."

Joe nodded because that was the kind of long-distance friendship she and Kelly had. This year had been unique as Kelly had been so much on campus and then her whatever-ness with Jimmy. This year had been unique in a lot of ways, come to think about it.

Her purple-eyed roommate sighed. "Do we need to talk about how you dismissed Erica as delusion last night?"

"I'm fine," Joe mumbled and fiddled with the broken handle. She supposed there was superglue somewhere in the apartment to fix it. "It's barely been twenty-four hours. Still running high."

"You've been running high for three months."

"I'll be fine."

Somehow he managed to portray his disbelief without saying a word. No point to have an argument. More important things to focus on. Maybe she could use superglue on her fractured memories as well.

Jimmy's tea water started boiling just as the buzzer went off. They weren't expecting company.

Without saying a word, Joe slid down from the kitchen island, setting her broken cup pieces gently on the top to not make a sound. She held eye contact with Jimmy as he stalked out the hallway, both looking at the windows and doors.

The buzzer went off again.

She waited while Jimmy closed his eyes, concentrating on his other senses. It was easier for him now after how long he spent in his other shape. A small flicker in his eyes. Still glowing purple when he opened them.

"It's Scott."

"Oh thank God," Joe breathed out and went to push the speak-button on the panel. "I'll be right down."

Looking at Jimmy, who already hovered protectively in front of the door to Joe's room, she gave a nod. He returned it. No one could know Erica was alive. They were still too weak and outnumbered. And Joe didn't know who she could trust anymore.

"Joe," Jimmy hissed as she was halfway out the door. He glanced downwards.

So did she. Ah. Shoes. Joe slipped on a pair of sandals and gave Jimmy a thumbs up. Downstairs, Scott was peering through the glass door of the apartment complex and lit up at the sight of her. Joe was not really sure how to feel when she stepped outside to him.

Scott McCall, aged seventeen now — it tugged on her heartstrings when she thought of that — smiled nervously at her. He had a helmet tucked under his arm and she guessed that might be because of the dirtbike parked on the curb. As she got out the door, he took a deep breath.

"I am so, so, so, so, so sorry!" he said earnestly with big brown eyes opened wide. Joe got a flashback to when Aunt Mel had stood on the steps a few months ago with the same message. "I am so incredibly sorry I have no idea how to make it up to you. So, uh, here." Joe accepted the paper cup with the Beacon Hills Coffee-logo that he had hidden in his other hand. He wasn't done. "And here."

Now he handed her a piece of paper. Giving him a raised eyebrow, she glanced at the paper and it looked to be a report card for the spring semester. Now both eyebrows raised. "You got a B in Chemistry? Oh my God, Scott, congratulations!"

His relief was evident as she pulled him in for a hug. She scanned the rest of the transcript, noting how all the grades had picked up.

"Good job, dude," she murmured and sipped her oatmilk cappuccino, again giving her near orgasmic sensations. With a small tug on her lip, she asked: "So the problem was me then, huh?"

"No!" Scott's eyes widened even more. "No, no, not at all! No, I just, I didn't want to let you down again so I, you know, busted my ass. Like you told me." His face fell again. "I'm really, really, really, really sorry, Joe."

"Cannot believe you that imposter was me," she muttered, but only half-heartedly. If it hadn't been for Derek, she would have jumped on Stiles' evil doppelganger-theory. She held up the report card. "This is good, Scott. I knew you had it in you." Joe leaned over to glance at the dirtbike, a severe upgrade from his bicycle. "And nice."

He let out a breathless laugh. "Thanks! Worked all summer to pay for it. It had some issues, but Stiles helped me patch it up. It's running pretty good now."

Joe, who had seen the insides of Stiles' Jeep, thought it was a good thing Scott had a healing factor. Still not done, Scott dug through his pocket and produced what looked to be his old phone.

"We got it set up with a new phone number," he said and handed it to her. "I told Mom your phone got stolen, by the way, in case she asks. I didn't tell her the rest, figured you wanted to do that yourself, you know, when you're ready." Now out of stuff to give her, he tapped his helmet nervously. "Uh...do you want to talk about it? Everything or anything? Again, I'm so incredibly sorry!"

More than half of their conversation became him apologizing as they sat down on the curb. He filled her in on everything she had missed over the last few months, which admittedly wasn't much. Aunt Mel had apparently not approved of Joe's radio silence and had suggested to both Scott and Joe's dad that something might have happened. They had looked into it, but because Professor Walker adamantly claimed Joe was doing her work, they had patched it up to Joe needing space.

It was hard to hear, especially as Scott did not seem to be fully able to wrap his head around where she actually had been. He knew it, he just didn't understand it.

Eventually, he swallowed and gave her a careful smile. "And, for what it's worth, I think Derek's really sorry too. He, uh, hasn't said anything, but you can sort of tell when he's in a worse mood than usual."

Joe had not anticipated talking about Derek and she took a hasty sip of cappuccino to cover up her initial reactions. True to his oblivious self, Scott never noticed her nerves.

"He's been in a bad mood all summer. Well, since you left really. He and Isaac pretty much worked non-stop trying to find Boyd and..." His eyes fell and she realized he sounded hoarse when continuing. "And Erica. Uh, it doesn't help, I know, but I don't think he could have tried harder if he knew you'd been taken."

Her dad would have found her, Joe thought and her mood darkened instantly. The Sheriff, Aunt Mel, Uncle Raf — all would have looked for her if they knew. Not just Derek Hale. Hell, he hadn't even told Scott about the Alphas.

"I just don't get it," Scott kept talking. "It's like an episode of that, uh, show that Stiles always talks about-"

"Twilight Zone?"

"Yes, that one! The fake you even told Mom where to find the jacket because you'd been saving it for my birthday. Isn't that creepy, like, how did she know?"

That made a chill go down Joe's spine — had she told Aunt Mel about it at some point? Possibly, but she had wanted it to be a surprise. The faded stonewashed denim jacket with the American flag had been her dad's pride and joy when he was younger. She stopped wearing it after they fell out, not really her style anymore anyway, but Scott had always tried it on as a kid when he was playing FBI-agent around the house.

Her dad. The thought of him made her stomach churn again. Conflicted feelings for sure. Had he lied to her again right before she left Beacon Hills or did he simply not know the full truth? It would have to wait. If he came to Beacon Hills now, he was in danger. Better he was angry with her and alive than reconciled and dead.

"I meant what I said in the hospital, by the way."

Joe peered over at Scott; he was studying his threaded fingers. "What?"

"That I would apologize in person," he gave her a half-smile, tainted with sadness. "For what I did, with the pills and the lying and... stuff. I shouldn't have done that. It was just, the thought of losing you, it scared me. A lot. I kind of feel like this is my fault too, you know, because maybe you wouldn't have left if we hadn't had that argument."

That felt like a completely different life. A completely different Joe. She shrugged and nudged his shoulder with hers. "Didn't I tell you not to play the 'what if'-game? We're cool."

"Really? Just like that?"

"Scott, I've had several times these last few months where I thought I might not be coming back at all," she said, trying to keep the shaking out of her voice. Last thing she needed was Scott succumbing to guilt. "And I've had a lot of time to think. Don't get me wrong, what you did was a major dick-move, but I guess I can see why you did it. Besides, I never really told you what I felt for Derek so-"

She cut herself off, but it was too late.

"So there's feelings?"

"Shut up."

"You said felt, that indicates feelings, right?" Scott grinned at her and she ducked her head down, finding it harder to conceal her face behind her much shorter hair. "You're not talking about the fabric?" He nudged her shoulder back again. "It's okay, I probably would have been able to tell if I'd paid attention. Used my senses and stuff."

"If you hadn't been so obsessed with Allison," Joe corrected wisely, determined to get jab back.

"Yeah." Scott nodded, not arguing. "You know, I went four months without calling or texting her once this summer."

"Congratulations, that's what you're supposed to do when someone breaks up with you." Joe leaned back on the curb, paper cup of coffee now empty next to her. High school drama was not on her agenda, even if she got the feeling Scott wanted to talk about that. "Can you send me screenshots of all the texts from 'me'?"

She wanted to see what else this imposter knew. Scott was right, it did feel like something from the Twilight Zone.

"They're already on there. Stiles compiled everything, said you'd probably want as much evidence as possible."

A smile slipped onto Joe's mouth. Good old Stiles. Another shoulder-nudge. "I missed you guys."

"Yeah," Scott said slowly, glancing over at her like he knew he had to say more, but couldn't find the words. Eventually, he sighed. "What are you gonna do? About the phone-stuff and all?"

"Confront Walker. Hope she has a good reason." Joe squeezed the empty coffee cup into a ball like Derek usually did, imagining Walker's throat. "Wanna be my alibi if I get charged with homicide?"

"Uh..."

"Joke, Scott, come on."

"Right."

"I'm not gonna get caught.

Which one of them attended to her first? The blonde?

It took another day for Erica to wake up.

"Everyone thinks you are dead."

It was not an easy thing to tell a sixteen-year-old recovering from a near-fatal injury. Sure enough, at her words, Erica's head swiveled to Joe and gave her an unimpressed glare. Helped by the dark circles and pale lips.

"And it's safest for you if it stays like that. Just until we can find a way to beat them."

"I can help."

Her voice so raw it could cut shards into Joe's heart. Joe sat down on Erica's bed — they'd changed the sheets again because of the blood and Jimmy was downstairs trying to get them clean. Unsure of what to say, she just grabbed Erica's hand and squeezed, hoping it would give some semblance of comfort.

"You'll help by making a full recovery," Joe said and Erica rolled her eyes instantly.

"Oh my God. Now who's talking in cliches?"

Joe nodded, as she had a point. "Yeah, yeah. Thing is, if they think you're dead, they won't come after you. You'll be safe here in the apartment." Erica already knew about the mountain ash-lining — it made Joe wonder what werewolf Jimmy had feared when he had it installed. It had to have been before he disappeared into the cavern. Joe raised her voice when Erica looked like she was protesting. "Just for a while, okay? Temporary."

"But what am I supposed to do all day?" Erica whined and Joe felt relief at the sight. Still a teenager. Not completely jaded yet. Apparently, the motion put some strain on her stomach as she winced. "Oww."

Without thinking, Joe reached over and grabbed Erica's arm, barely paying attention to the thick black stripes traveling up from her fingers. "We have internet and TV. And take-out. Not really sure what else you need."

"I don't know, let me think. Social interaction? Conversation? A purpose?"

Joe made a face. "You have us?" Now Erica made a face. "Okay, I'll admit, I wouldn't be thrilled at the prospect either. Uh...you can chat anonymously with people online? Jimmy can hook you up with werewolves all over the world."

Based on the pulled upper lip, Erica did not consider that a satisfactory solution.

"Erica, please, I know it's not ideal, but it's temporary. Until we can find a way to beat them."

"And if we can't?" Erica winced again as she shifted against the stack of pillows. "I almost killed you."

"I healed," Joe mumbled, still siphoning Erica's pain whose wounds healed slower than Joe's had. "If we can't beat them, we run. I'm not risking your life again."

Both of them froze at the sound of locks clicking open and relaxed when it was just Jimmy. He appeared in the doorway to Joe's room, wearing a pair of large sunglasses and carrying a heavy grocery bag. Apparently, he'd gone to the store after doing the laundry and Joe suppressed the irritation that he ventured out on his own.

"I have your excessive amounts of empty carbohydrates, chocolate, and additives."

Jimmy took off his sunglasses to reveal purple glowing eyes — they had not dimmed the slightest since the night of the full moon — and put the bag on the nightstand next to Erica, who perked up a bit.

"As well as all the glossy magazines I found with dubious headlines about day-to-night outfits and," he rustled in the bag to bring up some clamshell-packaged items, "burner phones. So you can both stay in contact with us and if the urge strikes you, start a lucrative drug dealing business on the side."

"Thank you, Jimmy," Erica cooed and started taking out the snacks. "Did you get mascara?"

"Yes," he said tersely and rolled his eyes. Ignoring Erica, he dangled a pair of car-keys in front of Joe. At her raised eyebrows, he shrugged. "My dad's. He doesn't drive anymore anyway."

"Because of the medication?" she asked and he nodded, obviously not in the mood to talk. He disappeared down the hall.

Already opening and eating one of the chocolate bars, Erica said: "I'm gonna get so fat now. I can't wait." She offered Joe a bite, who accepted. With her mouth full, Erica asked: "So, how was the big reunion?" A mischievous smirk stretched over her pale lips. "Was Derek happy to see you?" The smile grew wider — Erica was as invested in Joe and Derek as either of the involved parties were, claiming something about 'shipping' them. "Was it like we talked about?"

"Uh..."

Jimmy, helpful as always, supplied from down the hall: "They didn't know we were missing."

"What?" Erica snapped with wide eyes and Joe had to tell her the whole story, which she had not originally planned. In the end, Erica only said: "That's such bullshit! Three months with no contact and he thinks you're just waltzing around in San Francisco? God, he's such an idiot sometimes!"

"San Diego, but yeah, that's pretty much it," Joe said, secretly agreeing about the idiot-comment. Only sometimes though. "So now I have to go to Berkeley and potentially torture my criminology-professor to find out why she set me up." Joe got up from the bed, declining Erica's second offer of another bite. "We'll only be gone a couple of hours."

The sugar and additives did wonders for Erica's mood, who shrugged. "If no one's looking for me, I'll be fine, right?"

"God, I hope so," Joe murmured, knowing full and well that Erica would hear her.

They'd talked when she first woke up, for hours, and although Erica said she did not harbor any hard feelings, Joe found it hard to believe. Joe found it hard to look at Erica if she was being honest, but it was like every time she looked away, she couldn't bring herself to believe Erica was still alive. There were a few loose ends still that Erica hadn't been able to answer — how had she made it to the laundromat and how had she survived with a gaping hole in her stomach so long?

"Just never open the door for anyone but us."

"Don't worry, I won't let in the big bad wolf, Mama Goat," Erica said, heavy-lidded eyes glinting, and smiled at the face Joe made. "I just hate sitting around here doing nothing, but it beats the vault, so I'll manage."

"Hide and heal." Joe pulled on her shoes and jacket. "That's what Cora always says, right? Hide and heal."

"Yeah, I guess." Erica looked contemplative. "Is she okay? Like, did you see her?" When Joe nodded, Erica took a breath and asked: "And, uh, Boyd?"

"I didn't see him," thank God, "but Derek said he was fine." Joe squeezed Erica's hand again. God, she hated the high school drama that had even seeped into the vault. "You gonna be okay?"

Whatever Erica wanted to say got lost in the loud banging as Jimmy kicked open the door. He was carrying the large flatscreen TV from the living room into the bedroom and mumbled something about how he and Joe never watched TV anyway. Erica assured Joe she would be fine a few hours alone.

"I still don't know, maybe you should just stay here?" Joe said to Jimmy as he plugged in the TV and ran the cable through the doorway.

Both of them gave her a deadpan expression and she groaned, already knowing what they were gonna ask. She held up her hands, palms facing the floor. No sleep last night, evident by the trembling.

"Jimmy's going with you," Erica decided and that was that. They had already wasted a day of recuperating, Walker could already have caught wind of Joe's escape and taken off. "Come on, go. Kick some ass for me." Her voice followed them down the hallway: "Kick Derek's ass for me!"

Mr. Carter's car turned out to be a shiny red vintage Chevy Corvette with only two seats. It looked like a mid-life crisis car and Jimmy confirmed it. They headed to Derek's loft first. Well, first they stopped for coffee and some tea that smelled like grass, anything to get a semblance of normality back in their lives, even if both of them got uneasy at the crowds. As they stood in line at the coffee shop, both their phones started buzzing with texts, meaning Erica had figured out the burner phones back in the apartment.

"Is she okay?" Joe asked while Jimmy rolled his eyes.

"It's just her live commentary slash play-by-play of the Kardashians." Jimmy rolled his eyes again at Joe's expression when he began answering Erica. "It's a small price to pay for her to stay put." Muttering under his breath: "Seeing as you currently hold the record for most suicidal excursions in history and is her biggest idol, I'm not taking any chances."

Joe pinched him in the side for that and then they headed for Derek's loft, parking in the large empty space behind the building next to Derek's SUV. Joe briefly wondered what had happened to the Camaro. Walking to the front doors, they passed a point on the outer wall where it looked like something had slammed into the bricks — repeatedly.

Jimmy nodded at the large crack and said: "Derek took the news well, huh?"

"What?" Joe said, staring at the eye-height dent in the wall. Her knuckles twinged in phantom-pain. "He did that?"

Jimmy sniffed. "Smells of his blood and fury. Looks like your man let off some steam by assaulting a whole building. Classy." He walked on while Joe stared at the indentation. "Oh well, suppose we all have our coping strategies. Coming?"

Without thinking, Joe touched the broken pieces of bricks. It must have happened after he drove her home. It was to be expected though. That was how Derek handled things, by focusing on anger. By now, she was not surprised she hadn't felt his pain. Coping strategies indeed.

"What is the point of having an alarm if you're letting everyone waltz in anyway?" Jimmy asked loudly when they pulled open the sliding doors to the loft and faced the blaring proximity alarm, also blinking red. Otherwise, the place looked empty.

The door to Derek's room opened and Derek sounded over it already as he emerged, one hand still holding a book. "It gives me time to prepare." He closed the book with one hand, his eyes barely glancing over Joe before training on Jimmy. "In this instance, I could prepare myself for your bullshit. Glad you're feeling better, Carter. Nice shades."

"Thank you."

"Jesus, you guys are immature. Speaking of, where's Co- oh, there you are," Joe began, but as summoned, Cora appeared around the corner. Brighter eyes, still a little pale. She caught the bag Joe threw at her. By old habit, Joe switched to Spanish: "Clothes. They should fit."

Cora opened it and peered inside before looking up. "Sports bra?" Joe nodded and Cora made a noise of approval. "Gracias." She dragged the 's' — she was not overly fond of Joe's way of speaking Spanish — and turned to leave, but glanced at Jimmy, almost accusingly. "You're alive."

As expected, Jimmy did not even bother with a reply. That was it before Cora disappeared up the stairs, presumably to go change. Yes, she was Derek's sister all right. No sign of Boyd, which was strange, as he should have been at least somewhat healed by now. Not that she complained. He was probably at school, along with Isaac.

As Joe turned around, she caught Derek giving her a nondescript look, but he immediately averted his gaze. No time to analyze that. Things were already awkward between them.

"Just wanted to give you a heads-up that we're going to Berkeley. So, uh, I need your phone for a sec," she told him and that was apparently enough to trigger some defensive reaction as he crossed his arms. "Come on, I'm gonna go possibly kill my college-professor. I need all the proof I can get."

After reviewing the texts 'she' had sent to Scott and Stiles, she wanted to know what 'she' had sent to Derek too. Most of the texts were generic, standoffish even, but some had contained details she wasn't sure how this imposter could know of. Like Scott's jacket. It worried her.

As Derek made no movements to acquiesce to her request, Joe held her hand out. "Phone, please. Just gonna take screenshots."

With a slight eye-roll, Derek tilted his head to the side, indicating she should follow him to his room. This was turning into a habit. She followed him and simultaneously gave Jimmy the finger behind her back, as she knew he was smirking from where he lounged on the couch. Joe closed the door behind her after getting in and glanced at the walls.

"You really did soundproof this place, huh?"

"I'm currently living with two teenage werewolves who have some troubles grasping the idea of privacy," Derek said and leaned against the windowsill. "So yes."

Almost two days had passed since she saw him. He looked good. Better. More color to his skin, almost golden as if he'd actually gotten some sun this summer. And when he crossed his arms like that, she could admire the flexing arm muscles and ignore the annoyed frown on his face.

"Why did we need privacy when I only wanted to take screenshots of the texts 'I'," Joe used her fingers to make air quotes, "sent you?"

The tension between them made it clear it wasn't for any other purpose. He could hardly look at her. She walked around the spacious room — not overpowered by his scent, but it was definitely present. And weird.

He had said two teenage werewolves, meaning Boyd probably had gone back to his foster family. She wondered what that meant for Erica's still on-going investigation as a missing person. Or had it been dropped over the summer? She had no idea and couldn't risk asking either — part of their plan was still in motion.

Derek sighed a bit, glancing out the window as if looking for a way out. When he did turn back to her, he looked resigned. "You didn't send me any texts."

"What? Not one for three months? And that did not strike you as odd at all?" Her eyes narrowed. It seemed strange the imposter would answer everyone but Derek. "Wait, did you send me any texts?"

He spoke slowly and even though he had turned her way, his eyes were locked elsewhere. "Considering how angry you were when you left, no, it didn't strike me as 'odd'. As you've said yourself, you're efficient when cutting people off."

"I never cut you off," she said and tried to ignore the pinching sensation in her stomach that he had thought that. A different life altogether, she tried to replay their last conversation and recalled a specific phrase she'd lashed out on how her phone was on, she was just ignoring him. Her mouth moved as she thought, forming words until she could string together a sentence. "So...you did send me texts?"

His jaw tightened, which was as good as an emphatic 'yes' from him.

"Can I see?"

"No."

That came fast. Not even a 'why', just straight refusal. Blinking, a bit taken aback, she asked: "Why not?"

"It doesn't matter. Not right now."

"Now I really wanna see," she said with a half-smile. He looked embarrassed, head tilted downwards. "Please?"

"I said no."

"Please-please? I'll forgive you for not noticing my kidnapping if you let me see them." She faltered a bit when he sent her a glare; apparently not a joking matter. "Too soon?"

"That's why it doesn't matter." His arms tightened around his chest as he exhaled. "Let it go, Joe."

Again, their last conversation replayed."Derek, I wasn't... I wasn't angry with you when I left."

"I know. You were angry with yourself."

Derek took a deep breath, still not looking at her.

"Because when I stopped you that night, you thought it was because you had pushed past my boundaries, forcing yourself on me or triggering some previous trauma after Kate. Possibly projecting some of your own issues after what happened with you and her. You never told me everything, but I know from experience she has a very hands-on approach."

Joe could feel her mouth open on its own, but Derek continued in the same emotionless voice:

"You were running low on sleep, had been fighting with Scott, then received some news about your mom that hurt you. I stopped you because I didn't want you to do anything you might regret later. To stay in control, I anchored in anger and only succeeded in hurting you more. Then we both did a poor job at communicating the problem. You didn't know how to apologize and I didn't understand the issue enough to let you. I could smell the shame on you, but thought it was because you felt rejected, not because you worried about me."

It was without a doubt the longest speech she had ever heard from Derek, who was not a typical rambler. It did not sound like rambling either, more rehearsed and she blinked several times, trying to piece together what he just said.

"What...how?" Joe's brows pulled together. She'd never told Derek about her mom. Latching onto something familiar, her face cleared. "Oh my God, you talked to Aunt Mel about it?" Her hands came up to her face automatically, to shield the on-rising blush. "Oh my God!"

Derek didn't deny it, only gave a half shrug. "That obvious?"

"Dude, that woman has been my pseudo-therapist for years," Joe breathed, still too much in shock to be anything but embarrassed. "I think I can recognize her line of reasoning anywhere."

"Was it wrong?"

"No, but...kind of succinct. Uh, transparent." It was one thing to feel that, another to have it analyzed, laid out plainly. Her head reeled, unsure of how to react. "You seriously went to Aunt Mel? To talk? About me?"

"I hadn't heard from you in two months." Derek sounded and looked tired again. "Again, I thought you were ignoring me."

Something in his tone indicated he would have preferred to know she was held captive somewhere instead and that made Joe's stomach twist.

"Okay..." Joe could not get over the image of Aunt Mel and Derek sitting on the couch at the McCall house, drinking tea and discussing, well, her. "What else did she say?"

He rolled his eyes. "She didn't say anything else. Just gave me a lecture and some advice. Used the word communication a lot." Derek pulled in a long breath, obviously steeling himself. "Joe, I've had sex...after Kate. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate your concern, but you didn't do anything wrong that night."

This was not the conversation she had expected this morning. She had not had enough coffee for this. This was heavy after three months of just focusing on survival. They'd reached the third step of Maslow's pyramid; physiological and safety needs taken care of. What was an appropriate answer to that? Ask if he's sure? Ask how many times? Ask him to prove it?

"Derek, I tried to make you lose control," Joe half-whispered. This too felt like a different life, but when he had brought it up, all the bad memories emerged. "That was horrible of me, even if you..." have had sex after Kate.

"It's okay," he said with a simple shrug.

"It's really not. Don't give me a free pass just because-"

"Because I let you get kidnapped again, this time for three months? I think we're well past even."

"Can you stop with the 'letting me get kidnapped'-stuff and just let me apologize?"

"Can you stop trying to dictate what I should be okay with or not?" He ignored her shocked expression. "You made a mistake, I know you feel bad about it. It's fine. It was fine three months ago too. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."

He could be so incredibly blunt sometimes.

"Well, I'm still sorry for what I did."

She folded her arms, trying to get her head sorted. It felt like a lame apology — because it was. But to be fair, she hadn't had the range to think about this stuff for ages. Her mouth opened and shut a few times, looking for the words to expand, to make him realize she knew more about werewolves now; instincts, control, anchors... Instead, she just felt sick and overwhelmed. Losing control during the full moon easily topped the list of her worst experiences in life.

"I'm sorry," she said again and rubbed her face. "I wasn't ready for this much communication." Breathe, just breathe. "Derek?"

"What?"

"Please let me see the texts."

"No."

"Why not? Are they mean?"

"Doesn't matter, Joe."

"Are they not-mean?"

"It doesn't matter, not yet." Derek sighed and gave her a nondescript look again. "I told you, I'm not letting you do this. Distracting yourself won't work long-term. You don't just cut your hair, change your clothes, and walk away from what you've been through." He ran his hands through his hair and gestured to the bed. "Joe, if I knew where you came from when I found you in my bed..." Derek got up from the windowsill and paced the concrete floor. "I wouldn't have..."

Joe shifted, realizing what he meant. "Dude, you found me almost naked in your bed and you decided to put a t-shirt on me when you couldn't wake me up. You are the epitome of honorable here. Makes me feel even shittier in comparison."

He let out a half-amused breath of air. "That t-shirt was more for my sake than yours." A familiar heat thought long-lost spread in Joe's chest when he raised his eyebrow at her. "I could barely stand when I got back that morning."

The innuendo was clear and Joe's mouth felt dry. Things might have gone differently if he hadn't just been torn to shreds. Again, a heat wrapped around her spine, stirring into sensations she had not had time or energy to contemplate the last few months. Too bad he wasn't even looking at her anymore.

"Uh," she searched for something to say, "physical hang-ups are the last thing I got now. I didn't," pulling in a breath, she thought of the kiss on the inside of her wrist, "mind. At all. You don't have to apologize."

"I thought..." Derek said, staring at the bed, obviously not hearing her. Whatever he thought was lost as he just shook his head. "Doesn't matter."

And he finally looked at her and she wished he hadn't. She hated the way he looked at her now; like she was something fragile and pitiful. Worry, so much worry and concern evident on his face. He'd been worried for her before, for her safety, but not like this. Not like she was going to fall apart in front of him. Not like he had failed her.

He must have recognized her discontentment as he sighed again. "Joe, something like this, it changes you. You need time to process."

"Can't I decide for myself what I need? I 'appreciate your concern'," she mimicked his voice, "but I'm stronger than I look. I can deal. I can function."

She'd unconsciously moved towards him, still a few feet apart, but a definite challenge. For once, Derek didn't take the bait.

"You're the strongest person I know, Joe," he said, but kept his distance with his arms crossed. Not reaching out for her, not taking the opportunity to touch her. "But even you need time to get through this."

He was going to give her time, she realized. As much time and space as she needed. They were back to where they began, where he let her take the lead. Except now she worried he might actively resist if he didn't agree with her self-analysis.

"Fine." Another thing bugged her and she had to ask: "Have you been somewhere today?"

She scrunched her nose. He smelled funny. Like what she had felt when hugging him the other day, this almost tainted bitter smell, only slightly stronger.

He shrugged. "Just at the school. Checking on that teacher Boyd and Cora nearly got to."

"To make sure they don't talk?" Joe asked, fully able to envision Derek intimidating some poor high school teacher.

"To make sure she's okay," Derek corrected her. "I don't think she'll say anything. Why'd you ask?"

"No reason," Joe mumbled. His scent had that same lingering aftersmell, if that was a word. He had probably been right that 'something like this' would change her. She already knew it had. Everything breaks under enough pressure. To divert, she asked, as he'd mentioned it twice now: "So, you don't like my hair?"

And no amount of emotional capacity in the world could have prepared her to the response of a matter-of-factly: "Joe, I love your hair. Short, long, or in-between. You look great."

Something seemed to distract him from her stunned reaction — although she wasn't sure how he was able to ignore the insane hammering of her heart — as he quickly stalked out of the bedroom. His room was not a hundred percent soundproof then, as he'd obviously heard Cora's grunts where she hung on an exposed pipe, doing pull-ups. She'd changed into the sports bra Joe brought her and her lithe muscles already glistened with sweat.

"Stop," Derek said tiredly. "You're not done healing."

Cora jumped down from the pipe and gave her brother a dark look. "Yeah, well, I'm done lying around." She peered around him at Joe. "We're going after the Professor, no?"

"You're not going after anyone," Derek said and Cora gave him a surprised look as if she hadn't known he understood Spanish. He leaned down to her in a stereotypical big brother-manner. "You are still healing."

Unfortunately, that made Cora look accusingly at Joe, like Joe was her other parent and should intervene on her behalf. As if Joe should make Derek change his mind.

"There's only room for one Spanish-speaking girl with an attitude problem in the car," Jimmy supplied lazily from where he laid on the couch with his sunglasses still on, saving Joe the trouble. Cora whipped around to glare at him. "And Joe already called it."

Joe gave Cora a theatrical shrug and moved backward out of the loft as Jimmy unfolded himself from the couch.

"What, so I'm just gonna sit here and do nothing?" Cora demanded, following them towards the exit as she unknowingly quoted Erica. The challenge in her tone was clear — was Joe just going to leave her here?

"Yes!" Joe said and shot her a pair of finger guns while Jimmy nearly dragged her out the door to the elevator hall. She saw Cora's judging gaze flicker to her hands, but they were only barely trembling. "Hide and heal, right?"

Both the remaining Hale-siblings gave her the same tired look as the doors closed.

When they were halfway down, Jimmy looked at her. He must have caught something on her scent. "You think he knows?"

"Yeah," Joe mumbled and hugged herself. "At least something. He smells weird. And he's pushing me away."

"That might not be such a bad thing right now. Or have your priorities changed?"

She snorted. "Priorities are the same, but I'm not sure if we're gonna be able to pull through without each other. Strongest together and all that jazz."

They kept quiet until they reached the ground floor. "Personal isn't the same as important, Delgado."

"I know." Joe shook her short curls around to get her head focused. "Come on, let's go kill Professor Walker before it's too late."

Jimmy flashed a million-dollar smile. "Now there's a priority I can get behind."

A little breather before the next round. This was a 13k-chapter I split up because there was too much going on. Sorry 'bout that.
This is turning into a ridiculous amount of chapters...

And by the way, if some of you are still confused, Joe is a somewhat unreliable narrator at the moment. Three months is a long time and a lot has happened, which we'll find out eventually. Normally I don't hint about these things, but if you pay attention, no one except Jimmy has asked Joe if she's okay or how she feels after learning the truth... Like she said: they know, but they don't understand.

...

Anyway, thank you for reading as always, and thank you for your reviews! I'm moderating guest-reviews at the moment, so if yours don't show up immediately, it's just because I haven't approved it yet. Please let me know what you think and take care of yourself :)

Parts of Norway are facing stricter lockdowns because of the "mutant virus" (not the X-men kind, unfortunately), so it seems I'll still have time to write...

..

Cassidy, not sure if you already found it, but Joe got shot in Chapter 44: The Full Moon III :)