Dilapidated 《Teen Wolf》

Fifty-Four

A/N: So I've finally gotten the time to update- and I'm going to try to update as much as I can this week because I'm going home for a visit next week so I'll be in England from the 3rd to the 14th and won't have time to work on stories very much. You're all so patient and I love you guys for that xx -Melissa

54.

*Addison*

"Ready?" Derek asked, pulling the SUV into a parking space at the post office Jess left me coordinates to.

I pocketed my phone, grabbing my leather jacket from the back to put on over Stiles' hoodie. "Not really."

"You don't think this could be a trap, do you?" Derek quizzed when I killed the engine of the car. "Your Aunt Jess wasn't exactly the most trustworthy from what I've heard."

"She was different with my mom. Since it was her who asked Aunt Jess, she wouldn't go back on it." I told him, slipping into the leather. "It's here."

Derek nodded, "Let's get it, then." He said, opening his door and climbing out.

Unclipping my seat belt, I followed Derek out and put the car keys in my jacket pocket.

I just hope Aunt Jess didn't sink low enough to sell out her own sister.

Derek grabbed my hand, lacing his fingers with mine as we walked towards the nearly empty post office.

Seeing a small smile on his lips out of the corner of my eye, I couldn't help but let one lightly come across mine.

"Evening." A man sitting behind the office counter said casually, not too reactant over our arrival.

Mumbling 'Christo' under my breath as Derek said hello, no one in the room flinched.

"We're safe." I quietly said to Derek, knowing there weren't any demons in the post office.

"Which box is it?" Derek asked softly, us heading to the room of silver boxes.

Slipping the folded paper out of my pocket, I found the number listed before the combination. I nodded towards the 400's, not wanting to say anything out loud just in case. Paranoia was a part of life for me and it always would be.

468

That's where everything was. Mine and Stiles' futures were in that tiny box. It held everything our mom was never able to tell us.

Letting go of each other as we came across the box, Derek waited next to me patiently. He glanced around, too living in the paranoia drenched life.

Twisting the nob, I locked in three numbers.

45

2

76

When it finally clicked, I realized I had been holding my breath. Tugging just barely, the small door squeaked open. It'd been untouched for at least 8 years.

An envelope of faded white sat inside.

Pulling it out, I knew the penmanship from a mile away. I'd become all to familiar with it since Rosalie died back in freshman year.

There were no more games to be played and no more lies to be told.

This was it. This was the last letter.

I used two fingers, carefully removing the rectangle. It was as light as a letter should be, but psychologically, it weighed a thousand tons.

Derek kissed my forehead, shutting the door to the mail box. "Let's go." He murmured, his hand on my back.