Disclaimer: Teen wolf does not belong to me in any way, shape or form – told ya's I wouldn't leave ya hanging haha welcome to the new and improved (I hope) season 1 finale… hope you all enjoy
Kayla kept her stony gaze out the window, deliberately ignoring Peter because she knew he was just dropping little bits of information to entice her in, and she wouldn't play that game. Not anymore. She wasn't going to let him have that kind of power over her.
Much to her annoyance though, he kept fiddling with the radio as he drove, switching stations more often than she thought possible – another nod to how apparent his mental instability was.
She ground her teeth, resisting the urge to punch the radio until it shattered into a million pieces.
"Ignoring me, Kayla? Because that'sso mature".
She could practically taste the smirk in his voice, clearly pleased he was able to get under her skin so much.
"I just thought you'd be more curious about what I told you" Peter said, and unfortunately, he was right. Of course it spiked her interest, but at the moment it was at the bottom of the list of priorities. Maybe if she survived the night – maybe then she would pursue it.
"Really? You put my best friend in the hospital and my cousin is currently getting tortured by some crazy bitch and you think I'mthatself-centred?" she questioned snidely, shaking her head, "I don't care - not right now. I can't afford to".
"Fine... it's not me that will be going through the change anyway" Peter muttered, causing a knot of worry to form in her stomach.
This 'change' he kept going on about… she feared what it could mean. His little quips here and there made it sound like she was changing into something soulless and terrifying, something worse than him… that couldn't be right, could it?
She didn't feel much different… maybe a little stronger, more confident, but she was still her… right?
She picked at her jeans, trying to settle the twisting of nerves that tugged at her gut. The possibilities of what she was, and what she could do, were endless.
He said she was enchanted… that didn't sound all too scary, did it? It sounded charming, if not a little delightful. Maybe magical. Enchanted didn't sound like a bad thing…
Despite the obvious speed breaking, they still had a little way to go to get to the Hale house. Before they would have to save Derek.
"What did you mean?" she asked quietly, "earlier… you said I was enchanted?"
Peter smirked, clearly delighted he had her in the palm of his hand.
"It's the tale as old as time, Kayla. A pretty young woman, with the power of seduction. In every culture, every time, there are stories of these women… how they prey on and target men. Look at Eve… if it wasn't for her, Adam never would have eaten that apple, would he?"
She blanched at him, not quite able to grasp what he was saying.
"What?" she asked, "are you saying I'm a-"
"Seductress? Yes" he nodded, "and a very powerful one at that, if you harness your abilities properly".
Her head was still swimming, unable to move past the word 'seductress'.
"Don't be so ridiculous" she exclaimed, scoffing under her breath in complete denial, "I-I can't be. There's no such thing".
"Oh, but there is" Peter smirked, "and you, sweetheart, are the most dangerous of them all".
Sitting there, bewildered and confused, she didn't feel all that dangerous.
"I don't believe you" she accused, half hoping he was lying, "you could be telling me anything. You have no proof".
He chuckled under his breath, giving her a half smile.
"Why would I lie sweetheart?"
"Because you're you" she spat, "you lie".
"Have I lied to you about anything since I came back?" he challenged, "remember, I'm the one that told you the truth about your parentage, the fire-"
"I don't trust you" she cut in stubbornly, "I don't. I won't".
"What do I gain from lying about this? Nothing" he insisted, "and you know it makes sense. Look at your history".
She quirked a brow at him in astonishment, recoiling back in surprise.
"Excuse me?"
"Well, you're not exactly little Miss Virgin Mary, are you?"
"I'm a teenager. Teenagers have sex" she exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest before grumbling, "just because you're not getting any".
"What's been happening the last few days?" he continued, not fazed by her remark, "around boys?"
She thought back to how, when she got too close to any guy but Stiles, they would suddenly seem to lose control and become very sexual. Even Scott.
She said it to Stiles… she seemed to make them all horny.
"See?" Peter smirked, watching the realisation begin to hit her, "You're a femme fatale… a deadly woman. A very deadly woman indeed".
She should never have asked… not now. Not when she should be focusing on finding Derek and putting a stop to this once and for all.
She ignored the panic that settled in her chest, turning her gaze back out the window as they drove into the unknown.
By the time Stiles got to the floor Lydia was on, he was barely able to catch his breath, his dress shirt soaked through with sweat. Which, unfortunately, was made worse by the thundering glare of his father.
"You know what? It's good that we're in a hospital because I am going to kill you".
'Well dad…' he felt like saying, 'join the damn club'.
"I'm sorry, I lost the keys to my jeep. I had to run all the way here".
"Stiles" his dad snapped, "I don't care. What the hell happened?"
He gulped, nervously looking around his dad to see Lydia in the hospital bed.
"Is she going to be okay?"
"They don't know, partially because they don't know what happened. She lost a lot of blood, but there's something else going on with her".
Yeah… like probably turning into a fricking werewolf.
"What does that mean?"
"The doctors say it's like she's having an allergic reaction. Her body keeps going into shock. Did you see anything at the dance?"
Like an allergic reaction? What did that mean? Was her body rejecting the bite? Was that even possible?
He hated lying – well, no, he didn't, he was an expert at lying – but he hated lying to his dad when he already looked at the end of his tether.
"No" he gulped, "no, I didn't see anything".
His dad's tense face withered away into a disappointed sigh, looking around as if he expected to see someone else.
"Where's Kayla?"
He stopped short, unable to hide his panicked expression.
"Stiles…" his dad dragged out, "Where's Kayla? I need to speak with her".
"Speak to her about what?"
"About another incident. Brian Murdock".
"Brian…?"
"He's dead" his dad stated, "a broken neck. It looked like some kind of altercation".
"Okay, but why do you need to speak to Kayla about that?" he asked defensively, "she didn't do anything".
"She went on the record to speak about how he had been harassing her" his dad continued, "if something happened, I need to know".
"Wait, are you accusing her of something?" he demanded, "you think she got fed up with saying no to that dickwad so, what? snapped his neck?"
His dad sighed, that weariness returning to his features.
"No Stiles, I don't think that. But there's something strange going on here. Lydia was found on the field, bitten and bloody, and just tens of feet away from her Brian was found with a broken neck and scratches on him which was definitely not from an animal attack… it was more like human nails. Like someone was protecting themselves from him, so I need to cover all my bases. So I'll ask again… where is Kayla?"
Suddenly, her being AWOL did look really suspicious. Like she was running from something bad.
"I… I don't know".
His dad was not best pleased with that answer.
"What?" he hissed, "what do you mean you don't know? You took her to the dance".
"Yeah, and then we got… separated".
"So, she could be hurt too?"
He really hoped not.
"Stiles" his dad exclaimed, snapping his fingers in front of his face, "where is she?"
"Finding Der-ah… uh…"
He cut his words off before he could finish that sentence, but not before it was too late.
"Finding Derek?" his dad asked, his eyebrows raised in disapproval as he crossed his arms, "suspected mass murderer Derek?"
"N-No" he mumbled, "w-why would she do that?"
"Stiles!"
"Okay, okay, yes" he gave in, "finding Derek, but only because she knows he didn't do anything, and she thinks he's in trouble".
His dad pinched the bridge of his nose, overwhelmed with how this night was turning out.
"And you let her go?"
"First of all, no one 'lets' Kayla do anything" he insisted, "and secondly… he's her family. She would do anything to help him".
"Is this about who set the Hale house on fire?"
He stared at dad with a surprised look on his face, shocked to hear him suggest arson with so much confidence and sureness in his voice.
"You know it's arson?"
"After we got a key witness, yes. Yes we know it's arson, but I can't tell you any more than that-"
"What key witness?"
"I can't tell you that Stiles".
"If Kayla's in danger trying to sort this mess out, then yes you can" he insisted.
"All I know for sure is it was organised by a young woman".
"What young woman?"
"If I knew that, she'd be in jail" his dad said, "do you not think this case hasn't haunted me for years? Ten members from one family… it was a disaster. I want the truth, just like you do Stiles".
"Well, was she young then or young now?"
"She's probably in her late twenties. Look, just wait here, I have to grab this call".
"You don't know her name?"
"What is this kid, twenty questions? Of course I don't know her name. All I know is she had a very distinctive – what do you call it – a pendant".
He looked at his dad cluelessly. "A pendant? What the hell is a pendant?"
"Stiles, do you go to school? A pendant! A pendant! A frigging necklace. Now can I answer this call?"
He waved his dad away, all the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.
A pendant… a necklace… an unusual necklace.
A necklace, like what Allison wore. The same necklace that Derek was so sure was somehow a part of this, desperate to find it.
… The necklace that Allison got from her aunt Kate.
Kate Argent.
Kate was the one who set the fire. Remembering seeing pictures from the articles written about the fire, with Kate Argent hovering in the background.
It all made perfect sense now.
Unfortunately, it meant they were all walking into a trap.
Peter had abandoned the car off the dirt track, about halfway to the Hale house. When asked why he did that, he rolled his eyes and said something about "a surprise entrance".
"Drama queen" she had muttered under her breath, following him out of the car. Not all that comfortable with their apparent 'alliance' but, for the time being, it was needed. If Derek stood a chance, it was needed.
"See?" he smirked, "we make a good team".
"We're not a team" she insisted, following him through the wilderness, "you're a means to an end. That's all. You save Derek, then I'll kill you".
"You don't have the nerve" he challenged.
"Don't I?" she shot back, brushing past him to walk ahead. When all seemed too quiet for a considerable length of time, she glanced back only to see him gone.
"Damnit" she cursed, taking off into a run.
What was happening? Did he hear something she didn't?
She knew these woods like the back of her hand. Even though she hadn't been here in six years, it was forever imprinted in her mind. The countless summers of hide and seek and exploring not going to waste.
Her sprint soon slowed to a messy stop as she heard a gunshot reverberate through the cool night air, sending shockwaves right through her.
Who got hurt?
She pushed down her panic, willing her legs to move as she started running again, snaking through the trees and emerging into the clearing in front of the Hale house.
Derek was injured and bloody, curled into a heap. A few feet in front was Kate, holding a gun to Scott, with Allison on her knees next to her, limply holding a bow and arrow. Then there was Chris Argent, his stance somewhat calm despite the silver gun that hung loosely in his grasp.
This is what Peter would have heard… the final showdown.
"Put the gun down" Chris said, his voice carrying an air of authority that seemed to unnerve Kate a little.
"I did what I was told to do".
What she was told?
Was that an admission?
She stepped forward, her breath catching in her throat, ignoring Derek's wave of his hand telling her to 'get back', needing to hear the words herself.
"No one asked you to murder innocent people" Chris said, "there were children in that house, ones that were human".
He was right. There were children in that house. Innocent children. Children that didn't deserve to have their lives cut short.
Little Charlotte and George who had done nothing wrong but be burdened with the last name Hale. Sweet twins, always just wanting to make people smile. Cora, her cousin with so much energy and life to live. After one fateful night, their whole lives were suddenly gone - wiped out - because ofher.
She suddenly felt a new kind of anger she had never experienced before, her fists balling at her sides as she glowered at the back of Kate's head, her irises erupting into that bright glorious green. Except now it was tinged with dangerous intent – deep and dark and terrifying.
Allison noticed her first, glancing back with misty eyes, tears swelling beneath her lids. Something close to guilt and apology was evident in her big brown doe eyes, but at this moment in time, Kayla didn't care. Every atom of her being focused on Kate. Like she was willing her to drop dead at that moment in time.
"Look at you, you're holding a gun to a sixteen-year-old boy with absolutely no proof he's spilt human blood" Chris exclaimed, "we go by the code Kate… Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent".
"We hunt those who hunt us" Allison murmured in daunting realisation.
"My family didn't hunt you" she screamed, unable to bite back her words any longer, both Chris and Kate turning to face her in surprise, "they wanted peace. You just couldn't let them have it, could you?"
Kate's lip curled at the sight of her, as well as her glowing green eyes, as she quickly pulled out another gun from the waistband of her pants, pointing it in her direction. One gun on Scott, one on her.
"The code?" Kate chuckled venomously, "I think 'the code' needs re-evaluating because while we play passive, theseabominations are getting away with whatever they damn well please. It's not right".
"You want to know what's not right?" she demanded, stepping closer to Kate, despite the loaded gun, "you killing ten people in cold blood because you're so fucked up in the head you can't think straight. Because, what, werewolves are scary? You're pathetic, and a coward".
Her voice was shaking, not with fear, no, with fury. The urge to kill her with her own bare hands was exceedingly strong.
"Did you even bother to learn their names?" she continued, now just a few feet from the barrel of the loaded gun, "Did you make an effort to know who you killed? No? Well, let me tell you".
Everyone was staring at her, unsure what to do. Except for Kate who simply clicked the safety off, her finger hovering on the trigger.
"George and Charlotte, they were seven. Seven years old. They were found cowering, burned and charred, in each other's arms. Cora? She was so mutilated we had to bury an empty coffin because there was nothing left. Rose? Darren? Even dental records struggled to identify them. Alex got decapitated after the roof fell on him trying to escape. Or maybe Timothy? He was found trapped in the metal bars on the basement windows because he was so desperate to get out, he fought through the fire that burnt his legs off. Calvin and Amy? They were the only ones dead before the fire burnt their flesh from their bones. Lucky them, huh? Then Talia… you just couldn't wait to murder her, could you? Did you feel threatened by her? By how she didn't lower herself to your level? I bet in six years, you've not thought once about how Peter sat, in agony, living in hell, because he dared to survive. You disgust me!".
She kept walking until the barrel of the gun dug into her chest, right against her thundering heart. A chasm of wrath tearing her body apart.
"So, go on, shoot me" she challenged, "just another Hale to add to the list, right?"
"Kayla... don't..." she heard Allison plead with her, her voice shaking as she sat, stunned and overwhelmed, by the scene unravelling in front of her very eyes. Kayla didn't take her on, holding Kate's gaze. Not backing down.
"Don't tempt me" Kate snarled, her voice chillingly cold as her finger pressed a little harder on the trigger.
"Psychos don't need temptation" she spat, "so go on, go for the kill shot. Right between the eyes".
She didn't even flinch as she wrapped her hand around the barrel of the gun, moving it upwards to settle above her nose, between her eyebrows.
"Because if you don't… " she continued, her tone giving no room for arguments, "… I will kill you myself".
The silence was eerie, no one daring to say a word. The two women's deathly glares creating an uncomfortable and terrifying atmosphere.
"Dammit Kate... stop it" Chris exclaimed, raising his own gun towards his sister, "drop the guns, now. They're just children".
When it was clear Kate had no intention of doing so, he fired off a warning shot just inches from Kate's head, the bullet ricocheting off the tree behind her.
"Don't make me be forced to takeyoudown".
Kate looked betrayed - like she couldn't understand why her brother was not backing her up, and for once, Kayla was thankful that at least one Argent seemed to have a little bit of God damn common sense.
Bitterly, Kate lowered the gun from Scott first, much to his relief, but she seemed to struggle by letting Kayla go as easy, her mouth twisting into a thin line.
"Kate…"
"She's a Hale" she exclaimed, looking at Chris like he was stupid, "they can't be trusted".
"She's not a werewolf".
"She not human either".
A tense silence erupted again, as if at any moment something disastrous would happen – which it was. Maybe the others couldn't feel it, but she could. She could sense Peter's rage, finally just inches away from the revenge he had so desperately craved for six years.
"You're going to die tonight" she whispered, her voice eerily calm, "and that's not a threat… it's a promise".
Kate's lip curled, pressing the barrel of the gun harder against her forehead, mustering up the guts to take the shot she so desperately wanted to.
"That's enough" Chris snapped, "there will be no more unnecessary killing... not if I have anything to do with it".
The creaky front door of the Hale house swung open, everyone's eyes suddenly moving towards the house in fear.
"Oh, I don't know..." a voice called out from the darkness of the wreckage, "I think my daughter has the right idea".
His quip was drowned out by the sound of gunfire from both Chris and Kate, the latter whose attention had been clawed away from her towards the big bad Alpha they had been hunting for weeks. Her eyes on the prize.
"Who's that?" Allison asked fearfully, grabbing her bow and arrows as Kayla just simply stepped back, unsure what, or whose, side to take.
"The Alpha" Scott replied, his eyes turning yellow as he prepared to fight and defend his girlfriend and her family, but Kayla felt torn. She knew sheshould help Scott, and Kate should get some lengthy prison time, but the small voice at the back of her said 'Why should she?' Why should the person responsible for so much death and destruction be protected?
But then again, Peter had caused so much death and destruction… why should he get what he wanted?
She swallowed nervously, taking another step back as everyone seemed to congregate into one defensive line, their weapons drawn. She hovered back, dropping to her knees next to an injured Derek, his face pale with blood loss.
"This is my fault" he whispered, his guard coming down, "our family is dead because of me. If I never… with Kate-"
"It's not your fault" she said glumly, her voice void of any real emotion, almost as if she was on autopilot, helping pull the remainder of the broken arrow from his thigh, "she would've done it, with or without you".
Behind her, she heard Chris get knocked down. His body landing awkwardly and with a painful thump.
"He didn't kill Laura by accident" Derek continued, "he… they drew her here".
"What?" she asked in shock, just as Allison was the next pin to fall.
"It was planned" Derek said, "he did this on purpose. Laura only came to Beacon Hills because she was manipulated to do so".
Scott fell next, knocked into unconsciousness.
She knew Peter wasn't redeemable. Just because she understood why he was so determined for revenge, she, too, getting caught up in it, it didn't mean she condoned his actions. Those involved in the fire? She didn't care. She really didn't. But the others? How about ruining and endangering Scott's life, when his only 'crime' was being out in the woods after dark? She accepted that his actions meant he couldn't live, not when he was so irrational and drunk on power, but to hear that he manipulated and murdered his niece, simply for power, was sickening.
"The dead deer" she mumbled in realisation, the thing that set off this motion of events.
She looked back, seeing Kate turn in a circle, yelling and trying to be brave but she was scared and panicked, her hands shaking around the gun.
Dear God, her family was fucked up.
"No" Derek insisted, grabbing her arm before she could stand, "don't get involved. Don't make me lose you too".
She faltered, from the corner of her eye watching as Peter grabbed Kate around the neck, snapping her wrist so the gun dropped from her hand.
"We've already lost" she muttered, blinking back the tears, "no matter what happens, we've lost. We have no family. Whatever happens, we've still lost".
Derek's eyes glinted with something – something she didn't recognise – but it was gone as soon as it came, leaving her to scramble after Peter who dragged Kate into the house, Allison having followed them.
She stumbled into Allison's side, seeing Peter standing in front of the fireplace, his clawed hand wrapped around Kate's neck.
"Look at our girls" he practically cooed, trying to smile but his face was twisted with so much emotion she almost felt sorry for him, "so brave… so beautiful…"
Nothing in this world was black and white. Nothing simple. No decision coming easy. Kate and Peter were proof of that – both twisted, both corrupt, but both having done what they thought was right. Kate's hatred of the supernatural stemmed from fear and jealousy… Peter's thirst for revenge came from his pain – pain that made him kill his niece for something as trivial as power.
"Would you like to help me?" Peter asked, his eyes boring holes through her own, "do you want to get your revenge?"
Allison, next to her, was quivering. Her breath heavy and panicked with fear.
She stayed silent, the offer tempting – but then that would make her like him, wouldn't it? Something she was determined not to be. Especially after the truth – all of it – had come out.
"Killing Laura wasn't an accident… was it?" she whispered.
He seemed surprised by her challenging statement, his brows furrowing.
"You made out like you couldn't help it… that you were so broken and out of your mind that you didn't mean it… but you orchestrated the whole thing, didn't you? You murdered your niece in cold blood".
Peter's jaw clenched, unhappy with her words and on the brink of losing it.
"I did what I had to do".
She scoffed under her breath. "You're no better than that murdering bitch" she exclaimed, waving an arm out at Kate, "you're both as bad as each other".
Peter's eyes flared that bright red, but it didn't unease her one bit. When she said something, she stuck by it, regardless of the consequences.
"Laura left me" he shouted, "she took Derek and she ran. She became the Alpha and she left me behind. Six years I was in hell, and no one bothered. She didn't deserve Talia's power – I DID".
Everything was finally starting to make sense… only she wished it didn't.
She remained silent, glaring at him and he, in turn, her. A silent showdown.
She wasn't on his side. She wasn't on Kate's. She wasn't on Allison's, nor Scott's. Even Derek's. She was on her own, having had enough of everyone else's bullshit.
"If you want your darling little niece to live..." he whispered to Kate, eyeing up Allison, "… Apologise. Say that you're sorry for decimating my family. For leaving me burnt and broken for six years. Say it and I'll let her live".
Kate seemed to know, regardless of what happened, her time was up. That this was her final curtain call. After thirty years, she had only seconds to live. Would she give up her ego to save Allison? Did she care all that much?
The Argent gasped back her tears, looking at Allison as she whispered the words "I'm sorry".
It was feeble and half-hearted and was only said to placate Peter with her final breaths. Of course she didn't mean it, that much was obvious. The way she was looking at Allison, it seemed more like an apology to her… like she was sorry her actions put her in danger, but not that she would ever want to take those actions back.
How could one woman not care about killing ten people?
Peter soaked up the words for a few tense seconds, his hand tightening around her neck before he suddenly dug his claws in and tore her entire throat out.
The sound of skin shredding was drowned out by Allison's gasp and, although they weren't in the best place with each other, she still pushed Allison behind her – not only protecting her from Peter but from the sight of her aunt, bloody and dead, falling to the floorboards.
She thought she might feel better, but she didn't. Kate being dead didn't change anything. Their entire family was still dead… that couldn't change. People didn't come back from the dead.
"I don't know about you, Allison…" Peter murmured, "… but that apology didn't sound very sincere".
"No" she said, stepping in front of her friend, "you've done enough. You've got your revenge. Allison had nothing to do with the fire".
"She's an Argent" he hissed, stepping towards them, "she kills us".
"She's innocent" she exclaimed, "and she's my friend. You're not going to lay a hand on her".
"You don't remember what it was like" Peter accused, "being trapped here… helpless, burning… the pain, the fear. You don't remember their screams, but I do. It's all I've heard for six years".
He was right, she didn't. Those memories were taken away from her, whether that was the right thing to do or not.
"Maybe it's about time you do".
She was taken aback by his words, unsure of what he meant until he reached out, pulling her forward as he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and sunk his claws in – deep.
The sharp sting was intense and all-consuming, a warped gasp of pain escaping her lips as her blurry vision of the blackened Hale house melted into bright orange flames, falling to her knees.
Her body may have been limp and unconscious, but her mind was elsewhere – back to that fateful night of January the 25th, 2005.
She was thrust into the middle of the chaos, the flames licking their way up the walls. The crackling sound of the fire wasn't enough to drown out the screams of terror, with the acrid smell of smoke filling what little air was left. The heat of the blaze was sickening, immediately sending her into a panic.
She looked around, trying to back away from the flames but they kept creeping closer and closer, surging across the floor and towards her ankles, nipping at her skin.
Thick black smoke was curling all around her, snaking its way into her lungs as she coughed and spluttered, trying to stumble to safety – except nothing was safe. There were no exits. The roof was caving down on her. The screams of fear and pain were so tragically raw and anguished that she threw her hands over her ears to drown them out, but it was impossible. The ghost of her family's last breaths imprinted in her memory.
Her heel caught something, causing her to trip backwards into the rubble.
Only the thing she tripped on was her little cousin's bare foot, tinged with black soot. Little George, dressed in his dinosaur pyjamas, hugging Charlotte to his chest. Their small bodies, still. Dying in each other's arms.
She let out a wail, scuttling backwards on her hands, barely dodging a beam that fell and crushed their little bodies.
Through the chaos and shouts, she heard Peter's voice. Through the smoke, he emerged, holding a much younger her to his chest, her head wrapped in a blanket.
"Don't worry kid" he reassured, his voice strangely calm although his eyes told another story of complete panic, "I'll get you out of here, even if it's the last thing I do".
"No" she protested in his arms, her little face barely visible but, from what she could see, it was covered in blood and soot, "I'm not leaving without Cora and Charlotte and Georgie-"
"I'll get them" Peter promised, pulling her head back to his chest, shielding her from the flames that encroached closer as well as the broken and charred remains of their family littered around them.
What she saw in Peter's eyes was something she hadn't seen before. Not since coming back.
Below the fear and panic, he was full of love – love and selflessness. A spark of determination willing him forward as he hugged little her closer, tucking her limbs around his body before running through the flames, his bare skin exposed and burning as he leapt towards a crumbling wall.
… He saved her.
She was only alive, now, at sixteen years old, because Peter saved her.
Because, despite what her parents wanted, he continued to care… in his own way.
He protected her from the same fate her family shared, but very nearly perished himself.
When she awoke with a gasp, her bleary and tear-filled eyes glancing around in panic, she was alone in the Hale house. The very same house that she nearly died in six years ago.
She choked back her sobs, pushing herself up. The screams of her family haunting her brain. A single shaky hand reached up, clawing at her chest in desperation, aching for air into her lungs as she struggled to stop hyperventilating – sitting, helpless, in her very own spiralling panic attack.
The edges of her vision were blurring, bringing her knees to her chest as she completely fell apart. George's little foot, so picture perfectly innocent, sticking out in her brain.
Everything they lost, and all for what? Nothing. Just mindless slaughter.
Through the tears, she saw Kate's dead body. Her open eyes were blank and empty, blood pooling around her body.
She caused so much heartbreak… so much pain, but she died not caring. She would never know how much destruction she caused.
Sitting, stewing in her own panic and grief, was cut short as she heard yelling outside and glanced up, a new fear taking hold.
They were going to kill Peter.
She almost tripped over her feet as she stumbled upright, her weak and achy legs moving towards the door but let out a strangled gasp as, suddenly, an all-over burning feeling spread across her skin.
The pain of the fire wasn't what made it hurt - it was the realisation that it wasn't her burning, or even an illusion - it was Peter, it was her dad... and they were killing him.
Everything was conflicted in her mind – she hated him, but did she? He was a terrible person, but he saved her. His actions, although irredeemable, were understandable – to an extent.
She fell out of the house, sliding down the front steps, letting out a loud wail at the sight of Peter, in his monstrous Alpha form, alight with fire as he tried desperately to quell the flames.
Jackson threw another Molotov cocktail at him, lighting his skin on fire once more, and she let out another scream of agony - of pure and raw emotional pain - because it all just hit her at once.
He was her dad… and he was dying…
She pulled herself up, sobs tearing from her throat as she tried to move towards him, but a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her backwards, away from the blaze. She knew straight away it was Stiles. His presence, his warmth, his reassuring grip, though, wasn't enough. Not now. Not tonight.
He ignored her feeble, yet desperate, attempts to escape his grip. Holding her back protectively as the flames engulfed him.
"Shhhhh, it's okay" he comforted, gripping her even tighter as she screamed and wailed, "It's okay - it's over".
"No... no, no, no" she cried desperately, trying to push his hands away, "not like this. Not like this".
The flames, and Peter's wails, soon diminished. His burnt, flailed body crumbling to the ground.
All her energy left her in one big breath, sagging back against Stiles' chest.
It was the ending she knew had to happen… but did it hurt her so much?
Through misty eyes, she watched as he struggled to breathe, his short inhales raspy and painful. His burnt flesh cracking and oozing blood and pus.
How awful to die the way you almost died six years ago… yet, strangely poetic.
From the shadows, Derek emerged. Slowly creeping towards Peter.
For some strange reason, she didn't have a good feeling about this – something not quite fitting into place. Her gut telling her something was wrong… dead wrong.
She pushed Stiles off her, stumbling to her feet. Watching, with bated breath, as Derek began to kneel over Peter's dying and broken body, his actions, his demeanour, everything, eerily sinister.
Peter played Laura… Kate played Allison… but Derek played them all.
He didn't just want justice… he wanted the Alpha power.
Power.
It was all about power.
"No" she whispered, shaking her head quickly as Scott, too, realised something was wrong as he scrambled to stand, looking at Derek in desperation.
"Wait" he yelled, "you said the cure comes from the one that bit you. Derek… if you do this, I'm dead. Her father, her family… what am I supposed to do?"
She bit back her fury, looking sideways at Scott.
"You stupid fool" she whispered, much to his surprise, "he lied to you. There is no cure… not from Peter, anyway".
"W-What?" Scott whispered, betrayal shining in his sweet stare, "What do you mean?"
"Isn't that right, Derek?" she called out, her cousin unable to look back at her, "you manipulated a sixteen-year-old boy, gave him hope, and all for what?" she scoffed, "to become an Alpha?"
The clearing was quiet. No one dared even breathe, the tension becoming unbearable.
She noted Kate's discarded guns lying not far from her feet, metal glinting in the moonlight, before focusing back on Derek, her eyes glowing green in fury.
"How is what you're doing any better than what he did?" she demanded, "you don't take power, you earn it. What have you done to deserve this? Nothing! Nothing!" she scoffed, "if your mother was here, she would be disgusted with you".
Her words hit a nerve with him, his eyes, glowing blue, as he looked back at her.
"Are you choosing him over me?"
"No" she whispered, "I'm choosing basic common fucking sense".
With that, she made a play for the guns, dropping to her knees and grabbing them both, one in each hand. One pointed at her cousin, and the other pointed behind her, firing off warning shots just feet from her friends as they stirred into action.
"Back off" she screamed at them, making them stop. A new kind of wild unpredictability soaring through her veins as she turned back to Derek.
A ghost of a smirk played on his lips, almost as if he found her stubbornness funny.
"You're not going to shoot me, Kayla".
His cockiness made her anger hotter.
"Watch me" she snarled, dropping the gun that was in her left hand and using both hands to aim directly at his head.
Guns weren't her favourite, but her aim was immaculate.
Derek's expression faltered, still hovering over Peter.
"You're a child" he dismissed, "stay out of things that don't concern you".
Her gaze, steely but filling with tears, glanced down at Peter, his blue eyes meeting hers. He suddenly seemed so vulnerable… like a man that simply fell down a dark path.
She didn't forgive him, but she could understand him.
She could empathise with his pain.
He was right… they did all leave him behind. He was all alone, in terrible anguish, for six long years. And now, what? He was going to get murdered by his nephew for his Alpha status?
This shit has played out before, and it didn't end well. Like looking in a mirror.
Not again.
She wouldn't let it.
She couldn't.
Derek becoming an Alpha would become disastrous. He wasn't ready. He wasn't doing it for the right reasons. He was doing it for him. Because, under it all, he was being selfish.
Peter was looking at her, his eyes telling her a story. A story that he needed her to do one final thing for him, and he needed her to do it now – before it was too late. Because he thought the same as her… that Derek becoming the Alpha was fated to fail before it had even begun.
Her hand began shaking, swallowing the heavy lump in her throat.
Did she have the strength?
She stood alone, her family falling apart around her. Her actions about to derail the Hale family legacy once and for all.
Derek looked down at Peter, ignoring her. Dismissing her, like she was just a pest. A fly he could easily swat away. Putting his wants above mending and strengthening their relationship.
The seconds slowed, watching as Derek raised a clawed hand… ready and willing to slaughter Peter for his power-
…
A shrill ring erupted in her ears, the gun shaking in her hand. Suddenly, it felt very heavy. Not the gun itself, but the weight of the damage it could cause.
Hot tears escaped her eyes, inching down her cheeks as the gun, now cursed, fell from her slack grip.
Peter's neck, already charred, suddenly sprouted out blood, a strangled gasp leaving his lips as his chest came to a sudden stop.
Well… she did say she was an excellent shot.
Derek turned to face her; his expression twisted into disturbed shock.
"Kayla…" he whispered, though his voice was tinged with anger, "what did you do?"
Despite the tears, her expression was slack and vacant, glazed over in something akin to relief.
"What I had to" she muttered, "good luck with becoming the Alpha now".
A/N) OHHHH BOYYYYYYY that wassss ahhhh, I can't deal. Obviously, I'm not changing too much from the original, so Derek will still be the alpha, but the showdown to how that happens is going to be more epic – Kayla x Derek fight/drama woohoooo
But yay, I hope you all liked and I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this