Disclaimer: Teen Wolf does not belong to me in any way, shape or form. Thanks for the continued support and sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy.
TW: cravings and drug use.
What had she done?
The full weight of realisation hit her square in the chest, the rush of guilt grasping her heart with an iron fist. The mere seconds she had to decide, and she may have just made the wrong one.
The clearing was silent. All she could hear was her friend's bated breaths from behind her. No one dared to say a word, or even move an inch. Suspended in the shock and surprise of the unexpected.
Derek stood, his glare fierce and resentful, his expression twisted with ugly fury.
"You've ruined everything" he accused, pointing an angry finger in her direction, "you just took everything from me".
The fact he categorised the Alpha status as 'everything' made a swell of bitterness erupt in her stomach, holding the sickness at his words at bay.
"Everything?" she hissed, "Everything? This meant everything to you?"
"I deserved this".
"No, you really didn't" she sneered, "least of all how you planned on getting it".
"I needed it" he said, his voice shaking with fury, "you think I don't have enemies out there?"
"Join the club" she snapped, another tear dripping down her cheek, "any excuse to justify your shitty behaviour, huh?"
"You just picked the wrong side" he warned lowly, "you picked them over me – remember that".
She couldn't dare look at Peter's charred dead body between Derek's feet, her fists clenching at her sides.
"There is no them or you" she yelled, her voice teetering on the edge of completely losing it, "but there could have been an us if you bothered to tell me the truth for a change".
Her words and defiance seemed to anger Derek more, stepping from over Peter's body to fully face her, his eyes glowing that luminous bright blue.
"What good does the truth do?"
To her? Everything. The truth was something that meant a great deal to her, and if someone couldn't be truthful, then why were they in her life? Lies and deceit were of the utmost betrayal, and Derek wasn't winning any awards in the honesty department.
This past while, learning all her family's deep dark secrets, could have been a catalyst to her falling off the deep end. It still could be. Her coping mechanisms were pretty much non-existent, and the ones she did have were not only unhealthy but also incredibly dangerous. It was a miracle she wasn't face first in her own vomit after taking anything she could get her hands on.
If she had the truth before, maybe she wouldn't feel like she was going to spin off the edge of the earth and into nothing.
"You deceitful bastard" she shrieked, storming up to him and pushing at his chest, "we were supposed to have each other and you ruined it".
"I ruined it?" he barked, "I didn't just kill my own father".
That hit her like a ton of bricks, her breath catching in the back of her throat.
"To stop you from making the biggest decision of your life" she insisted, "to stop this vicious cycle of our family destroying each other and everything in its path".
"If I was the Alpha, I could've protected you".
She was shaking with fury, her eyes glowing that perfect bright green.
"I don't need protection" she screeched, "least of all from you".
Her clenched fist hit his cheek, the pure force surprising even her as he stumbled back, tripping over Peter's body. The echo of the smack reverberating throughout the clearing.
His betrayal was a cold sting to her. Derek, although distant, was someone she thought she could count on if needed. That apparently wasn't the case. Not anymore. She didn't recognise who he was or what he had turned into.
It made her wonder if she ever really knew him at all.
She felt fury like never before, a new kind of rage searing through her veins. Her chest, tight and constricting, made her heart race. All she could hear was the blood rushing past her ears, making them ring shrilly.
Then, despite the fact a storm was not forecast, a clap of thunder struck the sky.
She was so unhinged with red-hot anger, she didn't know what more she was capable of, about to unleash every ounce of rage that had built up inside her when Peter, who she shot through the neck, suddenly inhaled a bloody and raspy breath.
She faltered, looking down at him in surprise.
She shot him.
She killed him.
… So why did he just breathe?
The charred, burnt and broken remains of his body were still once again. Both she and Derek were suddenly motionless as they watched, and waited, for another raspy breath.
… It didn't happen. Not until many seconds later when she bent down, shakily reaching forward with the tips of her fingers, inching out to touch him when he inhaled another breath, blood erupting from the wound.
A strangled gasp escaped her throat, falling backwards.
Derek, however, didn't seem so disturbed. Instead, a glint of hope and desperation resurfaced in his gaze – a glint she knew all too well. Like a junkie about to get their hands on their next hit.
He was about to claim the Alpha status he thought he deserved.
She yelled as Derek pounced, scrambling forward to grab his neck, lifting his other clawed hand and bringing it down so forcefully it completely tore his neck wide open.
It almost seemed benign – fighting over who got to kill him. Of course, if she succeeded, it would have meant the drive and hunger for power could have ended. Instead, she failed. She was too slow.
Derek killed Peter.
She saw him in a whole new light now.
Before, he was someone she could trust – to an extent. Now… he was just another person who had failed her.
She sniffed back her tears, kneeling in amongst the leaves and the dirt as Derek slowly looked up at her, his eyes a brilliant, yet dangerous, glowing red.
"I'm the Alpha now".
His voice was deep and husky, vibrating with a new kind of power.
She wasn't just furious, she was heartbroken. Devastated over the fact he chose power over her and their family.
They lost their entire families, but couldn't they have found a way to be enough for each other?
Fresh hot tears dripped down her cheeks, her breathing quick and shaky as she pushed him away from Peter – Peter, who was now definitely dead. His maimed and scorched body still sizzling, reeking of burnt flesh.
At the end of the day, Peter was a terrible person, but he was still her dad. After tonight, she had a fresh perspective on things. It wasn't as black and white as she thought. Peter had done a lot of bad things, and he deserved to die – he needed to die – but he had saved her. That night, he chose her over himself. He did the most selfless thing a person could do, and what did he get in return? Abandoned, and left trapped inside his mind, living in extreme pain for six years.
Looking down at him, she didn't see a serial killing, monstrous Alpha… she saw someone who could've been a dad to her.
Instead, she had now lost two.
The burden of everything that once rested on her shoulders, now completely suffocated her. She erupted into sobs – full body heaving sobs as she realised she had been right before with her bitter thoughts on the plane ride to California.
Beacon Hills was cursed.
There was no way her life could or would be any better here than back home.
She reached out, taking hold of Peter's blackened and singed hand, cradling it to her chest. She craved for something back – a glimmer of love, a reassuring squeeze, but nothing. He was gone, and she was left all alone again.
Despite her sobbing, Derek stood. No sympathy or kindness in his bright red stare, looking out at the group of friends and Chris Argent, his glare full of warning.
"Derek... how... why..." Scott stuttered, his expression full of betrayal as Derek let his eyes fade back to their usual light green colour.
"It was necessary Scott" was Derek's short and gruff reply, offering no other explanations for his actions.
"No it wasn't" Scott screamed back, "you've... you've cursed me Derek... they're gonna kill me" pointing back at Chris Argent, but Derek simply narrowed his eyes, dismissing his concerns.
"Peter's gone now, so go back to your pathetic little lovesick, high school life" Derek stated, making Scott stare at him in complete astonishment at the sudden shift in attitude but his words just unleashed more fury in her bones, dropping Peter's hand as she looked up at him in disgust.
She leapt to her feet, fully prepared to tear his face off when suddenly she got pulled back by a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, hauling her back away from Derek.
"I'm going to kill you" she exclaimed furiously, "I hate you, I hate you".
"Kaylz, stop, calm down" Stiles' hushed but panicked voice muttered next to her ear, "It's okay. Let's go".
"You can go to hell Derek" she continued to scream, ignoring Stiles' reassuring words, "you and me? We're done!"
He paid no attention to her, which aggravated her even more. As if she was not even worth a look of acknowledgement after everything they had been through together.
"Stiles, get her out of here" he instructed, "and don't come back".
Stiles attempted to pull her back, but she was having none of it. She was headstrong and stubborn on a normal day, but today was not a normal day.
She escaped his grip, pushing him away from her so she stood solely by herself, her fists clenched by her sides. Her entire body was shaking, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly. Every inch of her body, all the way from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair was itchy with agitation, her irises burning alive with that bright green glow.
Derek finally looked at her, and beneath his own stubborn and headstrong glare, was a flash of trepidation.
"Go home Kayla" he ordered, "because you won't win a fight against me".
Her rage, intense and all-consuming, just kept building and building. The usual calming sight of the forest disappeared from her vision until all she could see was Derek and his blood-red eyes.
At that moment, she felt like a rabid dog foaming at the mouth. Never before had she been so disgustingly infuriated, her entire body flaming hot with bitter hostility.
Another clap of thunder, although much louder, snapped through the sky which made Derek frown, briefly glancing upwards towards the silver cast night sky.
"Kayla..." he muttered, his stare hard as he looked back at her, "stop it".
Stop it? Stop what? She wasn't doing anything!
The air around them became static - electrically charged and burning a strange pungent smell that reminded her of chlorine. At the same time, the little hairs on the back of her neck and arms began to rise.
She was too angry to care.
Angry about everything. Standing in a pool of her own wrath.
She wanted to show Derek how angry she was.
She felt about ready to blow - like her little human body vessel could not contain this much emotion - when a crack of electric white flashes shot down from the sky, hitting a single tree not far in the distance.
It was so loud her ears rung, and so close she felt her body tingle like she had pins and needles.
Her friends behind her got spooked, dunking for cover and letting out noises of complete shock, but she stayed still, feeling something akin to relief spread through her veins. Like someone had released a pressure valve under her skin.
The tree cracked and singed, like it too was being burnt alive.
The glow faded from her eyes, blinking back the surprise at what just happened.
"Stiles" Derek said, although his voice seemed almost hesitant. A stark contrast to two minutes ago. "Take her away from here. Right now".
Unlike before, she didn't resist Stiles' hands that began tugging her backwards. Her glare, although not as fiery, stuck on Derek.
"I'll never forgive you for this" she muttered, a new kind of scarily quiet seething rage settling in her gut, "you're just like everyone else".
He didn't respond - and somehow, that made it worse. Like he had accepted their relationship was over. He picked being the Alpha over her and her trust.
Next thing she knew, she was crammed in the back of Jackson's porsche next to Stiles who, she had just noticed, hadn't let go of her hand. Despite the fact she was still shaking, only this time with sadness. Deep and enduring, penetrating sadness.
"Hey" Stiles whispered, tilting her chin towards him, "it'll be okay. Everything will be okay, I promise".
She wanted to believe him, she really did, but after everything that had just happened, she didn't have any energy left to hope.
"Stiles... we need to talk about this".
Stiles had long since tuned Scott out, watching through the window pane as Kayla stood next to Lydia's bed, examining her. Trying to figure out if, and in what way, the bite was affecting her - if it even was at all. He couldn't take his eyes off her, worried sick about her since the events of the Hale house. He tried to speak to her in Jackson's car but got nowhere, remaining still and silent and glum.
"Stiles?"
He sighed, twisting his neck to look at his best friend.
"Yeah?"
"Peter's dead" Scott whispered, "Derek's the Alpha now, Allison's family knows about me, Lydia may or may not be a werewolf, and Kayla..."
"What about Kayla?" he asked with a frown, bordering on defensive.
"Well, she... she got mad" Scott explained delicately, wincing as he did so.
"Yeah, I think she had a pretty good reason to".
"So mad that lightning then came shooting out of the sky".
"Kayla didn't cause that" he immediately said, "it was just some freak weather, that's all".
"Nothing was forecast".
"Hence why I used the word 'freak' Scott".
"Derek looked scared" Scott continued to point out, "scared of Kayla".
"So, what, you think because she got so out of control furious that she caused that lightning strike and almost inadvertently killed us all?" he scoffed in disbelief, even though a part of him thought that too. "How could that even happen?"
Scott shrugged helplessly, "I have no idea, but it was weird".
Weird indeed. Maybe a little too weird to be just a coincidence.
He didn't get a chance to mull over that as Kayla emerged from Lydia's room, her expression flat and void of much emotion.
"It's not healing - supernaturally" she said, "but it's also not killing her".
"Wait" he cut in, looking at her in shock, "so she's not turning into a werewolf?"
"I don't think so".
"So she's going to be alright?" Scott asked, "she's not dying?"
"If she were dying, she would be bleeding black blood by now. Either, by some miracle, it just hasn't affected her, or..."
"Or she's turning into something else" Stiles muttered in daunting realisation, sharing a terrified look with Scott.
"Yeah" Kayla whispered, subconsciously rubbing the upper wrist of the arm that Peter had bitten, "seems to be a lot of that lately".
The three on them fell into awkward silence, unsure what to say or bring up after the shambles of the night.
"Kaylz..." he whispered sympathetically, "do you need to talk about-"
"We should take turns keeping an eye on Lydia" she interrupted him, swallowing back her emotions as if daring to appear upset or unnerved was weak, "if the Argents come for her, or... or she does... turn. I don't want anything to happen to her".
"Of course" Scott nodded, "I'm happy to take the first shift".
"Me too" Stiles added, "I'm way too wired to sleep after everything".
"Me three" she sighed, "I'll get us some coffee".
Before he could offer to help, she had turned and walked away down the corridor, her shoulders sagged in defeat.
He didn't know how to help her, but he wanted to try. He didn't know why she was pulling away from him, but it felt like something had changed. Whatever else had happened at the Hale house clearly deeply affecting her.
"Uh..." he glanced at Scott hopelessly, "should I...?"
"Should you go after her?" he asked, "Yes".
Didn't need to tell him twice.
When he caught up to her, she was already standing by the coffee machine, her eyes glazed over as she let the hot liquid overflow from the cardboard cup and spill over the tips of her fingers.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy" he called out, hurrying over to her and pulling her hand away, "you'll burn yourself".
She blinked a couple of times, reality rushing back to her as she winced, shaking her hand that was no doubt stinging with pain.
"You okay?" he asked, throwing the cups in the trash can next to them.
"It's just hot liquid. I'll be fine".
"Not just about the coffee" he clarified, grabbing some tissue and wiping her hands dry, "about... everything".
She finally met his gaze, and his heart broke at just how sad she looked.
"You-you mean about Peter?"
"I mean about everything" he said, wanting to take her in his arms and never let go, "a lot happened".
"I... I don't really want to talk about it".
"You don't want to talk about it?" he asked, "or you don't want to talk about it with me?"
She didn't say anything, just simply looked down and avoided his concerned and worried stare.
"I... I killed Peter".
"No" he shook his head, "Derek killed Peter".
"I had the gun in my hand and I shot him" she continued, "I intended to kill him. I thought I did, and... and I don't know how you can look at me the same after that".
"You're... You're worried about what I think about you?"
"It's just... it's all happening again. Me and destructive bad decisions. I... I was willing to kill my own father, what the hell kind of person does that make me?"
"One that's able to make the hard decisions" he explained, "nothing is ever black and white. The world lives in shades of grey, right?"
He didn't know if she was taking what he said on board, seeming to zone out of the conversation and back inside her head where God knows what was going on.
"What else happened?" he asked knowingly, "before I got there?"
She chewed her lip, her heel bouncing up and down off the floor in restless agitation, her forced demeanour slipping. It took a short while, but it seemed she was close to opening up and telling him when suddenly she shut down again. Like a switch had been turned off inside her.
"I need to freshen up" she muttered out of the blue, "excuse me".
"Kayla? Kaylz, hey wait-"
She disappeared into the women's bathroom, the door swinging shut on him before he could change her mind.
She couldn't get the image of her family burning alive out of her head.
She hadn't told anyone, not even Stiles, about the brutal images forcefully playing over and over inside her head. Instead, she did what she did best - she kept it to herself, torturing herself over and over again with the fresh pain. Before coming to Beacon Hills, she just knew they died in a terrible house fire. She didn't know the details. However, since coming to Beacon Hills, not only did she find out she was in the fire and survived, but Peter had given her memories of what actually happened and it was hell.
She could smell the tinge of burning flesh and thick black smoke every time she inhaled. Each time she blinked, wild flames seemed to sear across her vision. Then, worst of all, was not only the screams of bone-chilling terror, but Peter's promise to her that he would save her life.
Her hands were clinging to the white porcelain sink, trying to quell her tremor. When she looked in the mirror, she hardly recognised herself.
Actually, that was a lie. She did recognise herself... only it was herself from a year ago. Not the self she had worked so hard for now. Her heart was continually racing, pounding in her chest like it was trying to break out, her entire body jittery and restless, her palms slick with sweat. To any normal person, they might assume she was nervous. Maybe scared.
She knew better.
Since Jackson's car, she was craving a release. A release from everything that had piled up on top of her the last few weeks.
She was craving to use.
It had been an escape for her. She didn't use drugs or alcohol because she liked it - although sometimes she did - she used it because it allowed her to escape her fucked up life. And unfortunately for her, her life had just gotten a whole lot more fucked up.
She momentarily closed her eyes, trying not to let her thoughts run away from her. Her heartbeat, usually sitting at about 45 beats per minute, was easily nearly triple that, leaving her on edge and antsy. If she didn't manage to get ahold of herself, then she was going to fall and fall hard. Back into old and dangerous ways.
The bathroom door squeaked open for about the tenth time since she escaped into it, making her jump a little. Glancing over her shoulder to see Melissa, Scott's mom, walk in. She had only met her once before, and that was when she swiped her key card for some morphine to help with the full moon.
She couldn't help but let her eyes drop to her badge, knowing that if she got her hands on that she could have access to anything she wanted.
'No, stop it Kayla' she told herself, 'don't even go there'.
"Hi Kayla" Melissa greeted, all decked out in her nurse scrubs, her kind face filled with concern and sympathy, "Scott and Stiles wanted me to check up on you. Is everything alright?"
She supposed hanging out in the hospital bathroom for the better part of an hour would elicit some level of concern.
"I'm good" she dismissed, turning back to look down at the sink, "it's just been a long night".
"Lydia's going to be okay" she said, "she's out of the woods and doing well".
She mustered up the most convincing smile she could, although it fell flat. "Good. I'm glad".
She could feel Melissa's gaze on her back, no doubt able to see through her facade - which, let's face it, wasn't hard. She was tweaking hard - and she came closer, hovering a few feet behind her.
"Do you need someone to speak to?" she asked softly, "or... or I can call someone for you?"
Who did she have to call and rely on? No one.
She remained quiet, unable to even muster up the energy to shake her head.
"I uh... I heard about who was responsible for the fire. Kate Argent".
The name made her recoil in disgust, every fibre of her being hating that woman and all the destruction she caused.
"I can't even imagine what you're going through" she whispered, "but there are two boys out there who would really like to help you, and if I can offer any advice, it would be to accept that help. In times like this, you need your friends".
Logically, that was true. It wasn't like she really had anyone else around, was it?
She bit her lip, slowly turning to face Melissa.
The Woman seemed exhausted and a little frazzled, her wild hair that was tied back in a bun escaping to frame her face, but her eyes remained warm and kind. A genuinely nice person.
Scott really scored in the mom department.
She had the sudden urge to confide in her, although she wasn't sure where that came from. She didn't do well with authoritanian figures or those that tried to help her, but Melissa seemed different. Not at all like the kinds of adults she was used to, that would either hate her or take advantage of her.
Her mouth opened, about to spill her heart out, when something in her brain clicked and told her to shut the hell up.
Why would Scott's mom really care about her? She didn't know her. She didn't have a relationship with her. Maybe she was just pretending. That's what people did - they pretended and lied and she wasn't going to fall for that anymore. When she trusted people, she got stung.
Well... not again.
Her mouth snapped shut, holding in her woes and worries.
"I'm okay" she nodded, although her tone of voice clearly indicated otherwise, "I'll be fine. I'm always fine".
She wasn't 'always' fine, in fact she had a tendency to spiral, but today, for all intents and purposes, she was fine. She needed them to believe that.
Melissa appeared a little crest fallen, clearly hoping to get through to her, but reached out for her arm none the less and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here" she whispered, "I know it might not be the 'cool' thing to do, but maybe I can help".
It was sweet - she was sweet - and it did make her want to sob her heart out in her arms, even though she didn't know this woman, but she held back. Simply nodding her head in acknowledgement.
Melissa smiled, bowing her head and exiting the bathroom. Leaving her tired, cold and alone with only her thoughts.
A dangerous place to be.
She always thought she was good at being alone, but the truth was she sucked at it. When she was alone, she fucked up. She made bad decisions and self destructed.
She could feel herself slipping, but didn't know how to stop herself. The weight of everything suddenly becoming too heavy for her to keep holding. Like a slow descent into old habits.
She looked at herself in the mirror, flattening and pushing her hair back and wiping the mascara from under her eyes.
She had to pull herself together. She didn't have a choice. If she broke, what if she couldn't piece herself back together again?
She looked like death warmed up still, but plucked up the courage to finally leave the bathroom and into the bright and harsh fluroscent lights of the hallway, spotting Scott and Stiles sitting in the hard plastic seats just down the hall. They caught sight of her almost instantaneously, Stiles rushing over in a flail of limbs.
"Hey" he greeted, his face tense and on edge, "I was worried. Is everything okay?"
Lying to him was like kicking a puppy, but she didn't want to break down. Not now. Not here.
She forced a small smile on her face, hoping to ease his concerns.
"I'm... okay".
He seemed dubious, giving her a thorough once over.
"No you're not. I can tell when you're lying, remember?"
... He was the first person that could.
"It's just... it's been a long night" she settled on saying, slowly moving towards Scott as Stiles stuck close to her side, "I'll be fine. We should... we should make a plan".
"Plan?" Stiles asked, "for what?"
"Protecting Lydia. Keeping ourselves safe from Derek. Not pissing off the Argents. What we're going to tell the cops, aka your dad".
Her boyfriend winced, "that's a lot on the to do list".
It did. It seemed almost overwhelming when she heard herself say the words.
"Derek will want you in his pack" she said to Scott, "the bigger the pack, the more power he has".
"I'm not joining him" Scott vehemently denied, "I won't".
"Right answer" she nodded, "but he'll try. Now he's an Alpha he'll be... strong. Powerful. There's no telling what he'll do".
She hated to admit it, but it was true. Her cousin was untrustworthy and drunk on power. He was now their enemy.
"So you think he's going to try and turn more people into werewolves?" Stiles asked, "to grow his pack?"
"To turn teenagers into his pawns" she corrected, her tone bitter, "like chess. They'll exist to protect him".
"Who will he turn?"
"I don't know" she shrugged in response to Scott's question, "maybe... maybe people that are lost. He'll want to give them a purpose so they feel more indebted to him. People that want to escape life".
She could easily see the appeal. Leaving life's pressure's behind, even for a moment, was a sweet enticement. She wanted the same thing. Only she couldn't get that from the bite of an Alpha. There was only one thing she could get that from, and that was in the form of dangerous illegal substances. There was a reason she turned to them when her family was killed... because they made the pain of living barely bearable.
She realised she hadn't spoken, almost dissociating from where she stood in the middle of the hospital, finally focusing to see Scott and Stiles peering at her in concern.
'Stop thinking about it Kayla' she chastised herself, 'be the bigger person'.
"Uh..." she mumbled, giving her head a small shake, "anyone spring to mind?".
"Yeah" Stiles scoffed, "like, half the school".
It was true... teenagers didn't just take the bite easier, they were also easy targets. Susceptible to the allure and promise of power and greatness.
The trio fell into uneasy silence, each knowing that the threat of Peter may be gone, but new threats were on the horizon. Battle lines being drawn.
It was then she noticed, walking down the corridor, was Allison. She looked drained and disshelved, maybe even a little sheepish. It must've been at least two in the morning, which meant she probably snuck out of her house to come here.
She didn't know how to react, standing awkwardly still as Scott rushed to greet her, but the young Argents gaze stayed fixated on Kayla, something of an apology written in her big brown doe eyes.
"Kayla, I... I didn't get a chance to-to apologise... earlier... at the... when everything happened..."
Scott stood by Allison, holding her hand in support.
Of course it wasn't Allison's fault, none of this was, and she stuck by her decision to protect her at The Hale house, but she felt a little bitterness when she looked at her, seeing snippets of Kate in her appearance.
Kate - who burned her family alive. The catalyst to all of these terrible things that had happened.
She shouldn't judge Allison for being an Argent, after all, she knew better than anyone that you don't choose your family, but could Allison withstand the familial pressures? If, and when, the battle lines were drawn, would she choose them or her family?
She didn't know what to say, that uncomfortable pressure starting to drown her again. Allison was her friend, but she couldn't help but just see Kate when she looked at her.
That visceral reaction accumulated into sweaty palms and a tight twisting in her stomach, her heart pounding even harder.
Scott seemed to notice, picking up on her cues and listening to her racing heart, looking between the two in worry.
"Allison" he started off saying, "maybe now isn't a good time-"
"It's not your fault" she said, cutting off Scott, "her actions are just that - hers. You didn't cause any of this".
Logically, that was true. Except the nauseating bitterness didn't lessen any.
"She was still my family and she-and she killed yours" Allison said, her bottom lip quivering slightly, "I didn't think she was capable of it".
"People are capable of a lot more than we realise".
Her words, an eerie homage to just hours ago when she held a gun to her own father and cousin, almost successfully killing one.
Allison sniffed, her eyes, although full of sympathy, a little cautious.
"I'm sorry I doubted you. All of you" she added, "I trusted someone I shouldn't have. From now on, I've got your backs. My family won't convince me otherwise".
"Will you help protect Lydia?" Kayla asked, "because they'll come for her. It's what they do".
What she said was a little harsh, but it was true. Unable to mince or soften her words.
"With my life" Allison vowed.
"Then that's good enough for me" she shrugged half heartedly, choosing to end the conversation by sitting down in one of the uncomfortable seats and crossing her legs, her foot bouncing up and down.
Allison and Scott chose to sit a few chairs away as they talked in hushed whispers, whilst Stiles sat next to her, a permanent frown etched between his brows.
"Do you really forgive her, or are you just saying that?" he asked, "because either way I understand".
Honestly, she didn't know. Tonight wasn't the night to try and make sense of anything.
"It's not her fault" she mumbled, her foot bouncing up and down quicker, agitation snaking it way through her body.
"She was manipulated by Kate" he observed, "she was good at that, to get away with what she did for so long".
It was clear he was trying to get her to open up, but she didn't know if she could. Barely able to keep herself sane in this moment in time.
She hummed in agreement, picking at her cuticles.
She could feel his gaze lingering on her, clearly still worried about her mental state, and she wondered if it was really that obvious she was falling apart or if it was just obvious to him. Whatever bullshit excuse she could make up she knew wouldn't cut it. He seemed to see right through her, an uncanny knack for spotting her facade.
But being honest with him meant being honest with herself, and she didn't know what version was the truth. All her feelings, every emotion, each thought, seemed overwhelmingly complicated.
She switched crossing legs, unable to sit still. Trying to fight her way through the cravings that was seizing her body, trying to push them to the back of her mind.
His hand reached out, laying across her thigh and immediately her leg stopped jiggling, a sense of calm spreading through her body.
"It might not feel like it now, but it'll be okay" he whispered, his fingers stroking her leg reassuringly, "you can get through it".
A rush of hot tears blurred her vision, that wave of sadness and despair squeezing her heart.
"Can I?" she whispered, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, "because now I really have no one..."
"That's not true" Stiles said, shaking his head, "you got me. Always".
She wanted to believe his words, but that small nagging voice in the back of her head told her that wouldn't always be the case. That, one day, he would leave her. Just like everyone else.
"Peter told me something... in the car" she whispered, conjuring up the only thing she felt ready to admit, "about what I am".
"Oh?" Stiles asked, "he... he told you?"
"Yeah".
"Do you believe him?"
"He had no reason to lie".
He looked like he wanted to disagree with her but held his tongue, sensing that now was not the time or the place to bash Peter.
"Well... what did he say?" he asked.
She wondered if admitting this to him would change things. If she really was what Peter had said, could he one hundred percent be okay with dating a seductress? Werewolves were one thing to wrap his head around, but a girl with the supposed power and allure over men? Surely that was off putting. She couldn't imagine the trust issues that could cause.
Yet, somehow, it seemed easier to admit to that than what she was feeling, especially with the memories Peter gave her.
She pursed her lips, hoping - almost selfishly - that he would stick by her, even though she didn't know what it meant for them.
"He, uh... he said I was... enchanted" she admitted, unable to focus anywhere but his hand comforting her thigh, "that... that I'm a... I'm a seductress".
She expected more of a response from him. Instead, he remained quiet and pensive, and when she shyly glanced up, his expression didn't seem all that shocked.
"Honestly? It makes sense" he said, causing her to frown, "you said it yourself. Guys got too close to you, and you made them horny. I was thinking something along the seductress lines too".
Her big admission wasn't all that big anymore, surprised he wasn't recoiling away from her in disgust.
"You're... you're okay with it?" she asked in surprise, "but... but I'm a... I'm a..."
"My best friend's a werewolf. I can handle anything" he snorted, smiling and trying to make her laugh, but instead the shock at the apparent acceptance was taking over.
Why did he still want her? Surely 'seductress' had many negative connotations, right?
"It doesn't change who you are" he promised, giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze, "and we'll get it under control".
She didn't know what to say, at a loss for words as she blinked slowly, watching his hand still sink into her thigh - being the only thing keeping her grounded.
"But what if it makes me dangerous?" she asked, scared to dance with the fact that maybe being bad was just in her blood, "what if I'm dangerous?"
"You're not" he immediately stated, shaking his head. Clearly unwilling to even consider the mere thought.
"But I could be" she said, "we don't know that".
"I do, okay?" he insisted, "I know you. You're not bad".
Her past decisions told otherwise, but she supposed it was sweet he was so protective over her.
"The lightning".
Her words made his back straighten, looking at her in concern. Clearly, he had been worrying about the same thing.
"It was freak weather" he insisted, "you couldn't have caused that".
She had wondered though if maybe she did. As if the weather mirrored her emotions.
"Maybe" she agreed, "but looking at Derek, I just got so angry. I don't think I have ever felt that angry before. This rage just kept building and building and when I felt like I could finally snap, that's when it happened".
"Coincidence" he insisted, "it was a one off freak event".
"And if it wasn't?"
"Then... then we'll deal with it" he promised, "that's what we do best, right?"
She hoped so. She really, really, really did.
By the time nearly 4am rolled around, Allison had fallen asleep on Scott's shoulder who was struggling to stay awake himself, where as Stiles was completely out of it. Sprawled over three chairs, his head in her lap.
With being the only two awake, Scott and her shared some tense and worried looks across the width of the corridor, but both were unsure what to say.
The longer she was forced to sit still, the antsier she got. Her toes wriggled in her shoes, her cuticles were long since picked off and she had now moved onto rubbing the crook of her elbow. A response to feeling overwhelmed and craving an escape. She did and tried a lot of things, but injecting gave her the quickest and most intense hit which, of course, meant it was more dangerous.
But that was her... almost tantalising close to deaths door.
Tangoing with death, if you will.
By the time she noticed what she was doing, her skin was red raw and agitated, that need somewhat growing stronger.
She thought with the more hours that passed the cravings would lessen, but they actually seemed to get worse. Her limbs were jittery, her palms sweaty and heart beat remained quick and fluttery. Instead of focusing on how to protect Lydia, all she could think about was how sweet and free she could feel if she just had one small hit.
Scott was looking at her again, this time with deep concern. Clearly hearing how fast her heart was pounding, no doubt smelling how anxious and desperate she was.
"Kayla?" he called out quietly across the hallway as to not wake up Allison, "are you okay?"
Beads of sweat tinged her forehead, her mouth dry - like cotton balls had been stuffed around her gums.
"I'm good" she said, although her voice was shaky and lackluster, returning to rubbing the crook of her elbow.
He didn't believe her, frowning in worry.
"Your heart is racing. What's going on?"
She couldn't tell him. He wouldn't understand. None of them would. They hadn't fallen victim to the unforgiving tight clutches of addiction.
With addiction, it was mind over matter. When she finally accepted she wanted to get better, she powered through. She worked on herself. Her stubborn mindset aiding with that.
Only now, she wasn't as strong. Within days her life had crumbled all over again and she felt like that same little kid that got robbed of her dad and brother with no one to turn to. Whatever self soothing techniques and coping mechanisms she had learnt to keep the addiction at bay were suddenly lost - like she had forgotten everything rehab had taught her.
She wanted to escape.
She wanted an out.
Not to die, no. That she didn't want - surprisingly. She just wanted life to stop for a few moments. To just hit pause. She felt like she was on a rollercoaster she couldn't get off, nauseating her to her very core.
She swallowed thickly, avoiding Scott's stare.
"I, uh... I just need some fresh air" she mumbled, lifting Stiles' head up off her lap as she stood, "it's-it's hot in here and I... I can't concentrate".
Techncially, that was true. She felt suffocated and boxed in, like the four walls were closing in on her. Her skin clammy and slick with sweat.
"Do you need me to come with you?"
He was sweet to ask, and she really should have said yes. Sticking with people was the only way to keep herself safe.
"N-No, it's fine" she insisted, her head telling her that whereas her heart was pleading with her to accept his company, "I just... I need a minute".
She was flustered and panicked as she made her way out the hospital in a fluffy of limbs, nearly falling to her knees in relief as she stepped out into the cool night air. An instant relief.
Although, not the kind of relief she was wanting.
She hated that, when bad things happened, her first instinct was to self destruct. Recreational drug use used to be fun. Soon, it became a crutch. Then it became a lifeline - which was ironic, considering it almost ended hers multiple times.
No one knew the full extent of her issues. Not her mom, not Jane, not Aiden, not Stiles, not even the hospitals that would save her life time and time again.
They all knew she was bad with it, but it was worse than they could comprehend. There was so much she hadn't told them - both out of shame and fear.
The problem with her was that she didn't do things by half measures. She was all in or all out. Unfortunately, in the height of her drug use, that meant she was all in. She had tried every drug out there, and even the ones that didn't have a name yet. She pushed her body and mind to the brink that it was a miracle she was able to regain a semi normal life once again.
She had done things she couldn't remember, but knew had happened.
She had tripped so hard that she was held on a 72 hour emergency hold in a psych unit due to drug induced hallucinations. Still, to this day, a small part of her brain wonders if maybe she did actually enter an alternate dimension because that's how real it felt; even though logically that was absolutely ridiculous.
When one drug wasn't enough, she would start mixing. One time, she was so off her face, she stole a car and crashed it head first into a tree.
She was fucked up. Messy and fucked up beyond belief. She hated having these urges because she wished she could handle things normally.
Why couldn't she just cry like a normal person? Why did she have to feel the need to dull the pain with something so dangerous?
She sat on the kerb outside the hospital, bringing her knees to her chest. She wasn't big into all that spiritual crap, but she did her best to regulate and slow her breathing. Maybe if she calmed down, the cravings would go away.
God, she really hoped they would go away.
'They'll pass Kayla' she told herself, 'they always pass. Just breathe'.
The thing about cravings were, no matter how intense, they did always pass. It was only temporary. All she had to do was ride the wave...
... Even if the wave felt like a God damn tsunami.
She had her eyes closed, hyper focused on her breathing, but felt like she was being watched and when she opened her eyes, she saw Derek standing in front of her.
Whatever deep breathing exercises she was doing went out the window. That sudden and sharp enragement returning to her very bones.
"What are you doing here?" she ground out, pushing herself to her feet and almost falling over as she did, "go away".
"I'm giving you one more chance to join me" he said, his hands clasped behind his back, "to help put this family back together".
"Don't you dare-" she exclaimed, angrily stabbing a finger in his direction, "-put fixing our family on me after everything you did".
"You're a Hale" he emphasised, "you belong with me".
"You-you manipulated me. You lied to me. I can't trust your sorry ass ever again".
"I did what I had to do-"
"No. You did what was in your best interest. That's it. So don't come here and try and convince me of your cause, you self entitled bastard".
"... You were really intending to kill Peter, weren't you?" he asked, looking at her a little warily.
"To put an end to all this? Yeah. Yeah I was. You got a problem with that?"
"I've just never seen you like that before".
She scoffed, "you've not seen me like a lot of things. You don't know me".
"I used to".
"Exactly. Used to" she insisted, "not now".
"Do you really think the Argents will just let this go?" he demanded, "they'll come for you, and Lydia, and Scott. You need me".
She needed a lot of things right now and Derek wasn't one of them.
Her hands clenched into fists, desperately holding back her anger that was threatening to spiral out of control.
"I needed my cousin. Not an Alpha".
Derek shrugged, "I can be both".
"No. You made your choice, now get the hell out of my sight or so help me God I'll try and kill you too. Only this time, I won't fail".
Derek, although a little uneasy, seemed to smirk, turning around and disappearing into the parking lot.
However calm she managed to get was now non existent. She was back to being agitated and angry and insanely crazed with urges.
How dare he!
How did he even have the nerve?!
Her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands, causing them to bleed. Her jaw clenched, hurting her own teeth.
It was ridiculous how much she was letting Derek get under her skin, but her tolerance for bullshit was low right now and his presence had just pushed her over the edge.
She couldn't do this.
She couldn't manage all these conflicting emotions.
She simply wasn't strong enough for this.
She may hate hospitals, but one good thing about hospitals were they always had a dealer close by. A dealer that would catch all the desperate patients that had tried, and failed, to get their hands on medication or drugs through the ER. It was a prime spot.
She wiped at her eyes, trying to hide how truly broken she felt, making her way towards the back of the hospital near the trash and the morgue entrance and, lo and behold, she found what she was looking for.
A scraggly guy in his mid twenties, loitering and pacing back and forth, trying and failing to not look fishy. She could tell by the way he held himself what he did. Maybe to anyone else he would look normal, maybe a little suspicious, but addicts could see right through other addicts.
Maybe it was her gift.
She kept her head down, quickly walking up to him, her arms folded across her chest. She didn't want to do this, but at the same time, she did. It was all very overwhelming and confusing.
He looked up at her from under his cap, his gaze appreciative. No doubt seeing dollar signs when he realised what kind of state she was in. Barely holding on by her fingernails.
"Hey sugar" he greeted, sending her a sleezy smile, one of his top teeth missing, "what can I do you for?"
She didn't know. She just wanted this pain and confusion to end.
"A couple lines? Some poppers? Or maybe you're more the crack pipe type" he smirked, "or... do you want something to make you a little loose?"
All she wanted was the world to stop spinning, just for a little while.
"Ket" she whispered, "you got any ketamine?"
He grinned, "you wanna enter the K-hole huh? My kinda girl".
"Do you have it or not?"
"You wanting to snort it or inject it?"
Her rubbing at her elbow crook was answer enough for him.
"Inject it. Got it" he nodded, slipping his backpack off and unzipping it, "you done this before kid?"
"Since I was thirteen".
"Oooft. Well, you'll need a big dose" he said, pulling out a vial and holding it up for her to see, "you got cash?"
... She didn't, and he knew that by her desperate expression on her face.
"I'll tell you what" he grinned, giving her a creepy look up and down, "hot new customers usually get a discount. I'll give you this for free because something tells me I'll be seeing you again very soon".
He offered it to her, and in that moment she felt like she was making a deal with the devil.
She should walk away right now before she indulged. Before she slipped and made a terrible, terrible mistake.
Her hands shook, hating herself as she reached out and took the vial, clasping it in her hand.
"See you soon, sugar".
She should have known her life was too unstable to carry on with the kind of sobriety that was expected of her. It had only been 15 months since her family were murdered in front of her, and 4 months since she left rehab. It was super early in her so called 'recovery' for all these changes and emotions.
Or was she just saying that to justify herself?
She was shaking - both from fear and shame but also desperation - as she crashed back into the hospital, catching sight of a medical cabinet on wheels and flung it open when no one was looking, grabbing the first needle and syringe she could find.
If the world could just stop spinning, maybe things would get better.
Maybe her brain could finally just rest. She clumsily fell into a bathroom stall, locking the door and sliding to the floor. Her bleary eyes not paying attention to the dosage before taking one of her socks off and tying it around her upper arm - a makeshift tourniquet.
Her vein was barely visible, just beginning to pop, when she plunged the needle in and injected. The liquid disappearing into her vein.
Immediately, she felt lighter. Her worries and grief beginning to ease. Her head a little less busy and self destructive which was all she wanted.
She just wanted the world to stop for a moment before she drowned.
A sigh of relief escaped her lips, her arm falling to her side limply.
Finally, the world was beginning to still and she felt a little bit of peace spread through her veins.
That's all she wanted... was to just press pause...
A/N) sorry for the wait, but long chapter so YAYYYYY and Kayla's struggles will be explored a lot more in depth. Although only bits and pieces of her past have been shown, and she is trying to do well, the accumulation of events can definitely lead to a relapse, especially considering how unstable she is as a character lol but I promise she'll be fine. Relapses and blips are common, especially early in recovery (im exploring this now, since the first time i published, as I now have a degree in mental health nursing, I work in a rehab, and also am working on a criminology degree, so i feel like it will be interesting to explore)
ANYWAYS sorry again for the delay and I would love to hear your thoughts :)