GEORGIA RAY WAS sticky with sweat when she woke up. Her whole body ached and pulsated with a throbbing pain. It brought upon a distantly familiar sensation, as if she was reliving a past conflict. A groan slid out between her lips as her head lulled side to side.
Without opening her eyes, Georgia could tell she was propped up in a chair. Her hands were pulled uncomfortably tight behind her back, both ankles were fastened to the chair legs, and a heavy chain hung around her torso. It was a fight for Georgia to get her eyelids to lift, taking in her bleary surroundings as the frigid temperature nipped at any exposed skin.
Confusion struck her. She recognized it to be her own basement. Georgia had only gone down there once or twice for random purposes. Now, as she turned her head, she saw a decent sized machinery hooked up to the cables entrapping her. The wires were a dark red color, the same crimson as the blood she was constantly covered in as of late.
On the table across from her, various weapons were laid out. Blades of differing sizes and little vials of brightly colored liquids. The sight made Georgia gulp.
She tried to tune in her hearing, but didn't catch anything. It was strange to have what was becoming the norm be taken. However, once she tugged at her restraints, she understood why. A zapping of electricity went through her, causing a scream of pain to erupt.
Unpleasant memories fluttered to the surface. She was reminded of her time in the Argent basement alongside Boyd and Erica. The last time she saw the blonde. Tears pricked her eyes, trying to swallow so many emotions at once.
When would Georgia catch a break?
So much bullshit just kept happening. The rape, her mother dying, the bullying, Peter biting her, the kanima, Nate dying, Eichen, Erica, seeing Oliver, the motel. Everything was happening so quickly. Georgia just wanted a minute of rest, at least. She was sick of choking on so much trauma in such rapid succession.
She could hear a door opening. The one leading to the basement from upstairs. Georgia could hardly keep her head up after such a strong volt of energy. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw who it was that had put her into this position.
"Willow?" she forced out in a breathy exhale. Georgia's brows pursed, trying to possibly wrap her brain around why this was happening.
Willow had a mean glare. It wasn't the usual uncomfortable side-glance of nervousness Georgia was becoming used to. She looked angry—this sudden hostility directed straight at Georgia.
Willow walked closer, harshly dropping a manila folder against her table of weapons before standing in front of her sister, "I know what you are."
Georgia was startled by the blunt confession, "What? How?"
Willow scoffed, shaking her head as though it was all too simple, "I saw the photo of you and Stiles. Your eyes just confirmed what I was hoping wasn't true."
"How do you. . ?" Georgia trailed off, struggling to even process what she wanted to say, "How do you even know about werewolves? Why the fuck did you—?" she went to jerk against her chains, only resulting in another round of fiery pain and an equally horrific scream of agony. Georgia didn't remember it hurting this bad with the Argents, maybe she was too blinded by grief then to register it fully.
Or maybe Georgia was too exhausted to fight it anymore.
"The same way you do," Willow said cooly, her slender arms crossing over her chest. She struggled not to waver upon hearing such sadly gruesome noises. Her stomach churned, feeling bile creep up her throat for a moment, but she tried to stifle the remorse.
"I'm pretty sure you didn't witness some kid get bit by a giant monster in the woods, watch him become a sudden lacrosse sensation, then wiggle your way into a bunch of supernatural chaos," Georgia huffed, keeping her chin up to glower right back at Willow. She wouldn't be intimidated, even if Willow currently had the upper hand .
She blinked, shaking her head, "Mom."
Georgia tensed at the mention, trying to piece it together. It made her wonder if Nate knew deep down, too. Of course Georgia wasn't the only one to notice the intensive research done by their mother. Would he have hid it?
"It doesn't make sense," Georgia couldn't keep up already, "You left before the research started."
Willow began to walk back and forth, "No, I caused the research to start."
Georgia could only look back, not having a response. She was sick of repeating the word what over and over again.
Willow sighed, halting her pacing to instead lean against the table, "When I was eighteen, I dated a werewolf. He got me pregnant, and I was so convinced he loved me, I even ran away from home."
Georgia blanched at the news. Billions more questions went off in her head at rapid speed. Her brain raced, foggy memories emerging from a haze, "Kendal?" she remembered the boy who only came around a few times. He had several tattoos even in high school and was known for his awful temper. Georgia never even realized he skipped town at the same time as Willow until now.
Willow nodded, turning her back on Georgia so the tears she blinked back weren't visible. Clearing her throat, she carried on, "Mom was getting too suspicious of him. You know how she could sniff out a lie anywhere."
Georgia's heart clenched at such casual talk of the deceased woman.
"Once we left, things got worse," Willow took a moment to swallow the saliva in her cotton mouth, "He became violent. After a few months, he beat me so bad I lost the baby."
Georgia felt sympathy for Willow. She couldn't imagine having your baby stripped away without permission. Georgia was becoming aware of the fact that bad things didn't only follow her—but Willow, too.
Not that it explained why she was there.
"I found a family of hunters after I was in the hospital," Willow continued, knowing Georgia needed more answers, "The Balmers. I fell in love all over again, and they killed Kendall so he couldn't ever hurt me.
"I lived with them for years. I married their eldest, Mathew. We were together for a while before he died," Willow's head ducked again, wallowing in her emotions stirred up by talking about this all.
"Why are you telling me this?" Georgia asked, teary eyed, "Why are you chaining me up down here?!" she raised her voice, fighting the urge to pull on the restraints as she knew it'd only hurt.
Willow whirled around, stare hardened as she ducked down to Georgia's height, "I didn't wanna believe it, Georgia, I really didn't."
"Believe what?" she snapped, jaw tightened.
"You're a monster," Willow's fierce rage slipped into a sorrow. She stepped back, one hand cupping her mouth as if she hadn't been building up to this all along, "You killed mom."
Georgia gasped in shock. How dare Willow accuse her of this?
"What are you fucking talking about?" she demanded.
"I saw the reports," the older of the two exclaimed in a fury, "I came out here to see the body my goddamn self! She was ripped apart, Georgia! Nothing but a werewolf like you could've done something like that!"
Georgia was left panting as she listened to her screams. She felt herself crumble, willing her cries not to worm their way out. Georgia's head was running a mile all over again, working hard to comprehend what she was just told.
"You were here?" Georgia uttered, tone so broken. She sounded incredibly fragile where she sat bound to that chair and slick with sweat, "You were in Beacon Hills and didn't even come see me?"
"I couldn't. You would've hated me," Willow quickly shook her head, batting the thought away, "It doesn't matter. You killed her."
"No I didn't," Georgia insisted pathetically. She was so drained, she didn't have the fight in her to argue her own defense. She just wanted her sister to believe her, "I wasn't a werewolf then. I watched one slaughter her 'cause she was trying to find more info and they didn't like her meddling," Georgia debated internally for a moment on if she wanted to let the next bit slip, inevitably deciding to, "If you wanna blame somebody for her death, you were the one who ran away with some asshole werewolf."
Willow stumbled back at her words, huffing, "You're a liar," she insisted, snatching her manila folder until she found an article to hold in front of Georgia's face. The teen recognized it instantly, "Just last year you were attacked. Doctors said you came in with slashes all over only to heal overnight. Wanna explain how a human could do that?"
Georgia exhaled deeply, letting her head fall back against her chair. She didn't have real, solid evidence to combat this theory Willow concocted, "That was the night I was turned. At the winter formal. Peter Hale attacked me and another girl—I turned."
"I don't believe you," she reiterated the same statement yet again, unwavering, "Now I can only wonder. . ."
"Wonder what?" Georgia didn't bother looking up again, still staring at the icky ceiling.
"Nate was ripped apart too," Willow began, "They say some kid from your school did it before he was drowned, but. . ."
"You think I killed Nate," Georgia whispered once she realized. More tears flowed down her cheeks in steady rivers, going to drop off her chin, "You're wrong, Willow. I'm not a killer."
"How could I believe you?"
The question hung heavily in the air. Nobody spoke. How could Georgia prove her innocence? Everything looked awful for her from an outside perspective. It didn't help that Georgia had been a moody bitch since Willow got her from Eichen.
Everything was falling apart even more.
"There's an alpha pack in town," Georgia rasped numbly.
"Deucalion," Willow nodded slowly, "I've heard of him. His pack of alphas."
Georgia wanted to scream about how dumb Willow was, not seeing the answer right in front of her. Instead, she blinked up at the dewy ceiling and kept going, "Mom was supposed to meet with him. Instead, he sent one of his alphas, Oliver Blythe. He tore her apart but left me alive because nobody would believe me."
The tears just kept going. Willow was stoic.
"And nobody did. They said it was an animal attack and I made up a story to cope with survivors guilt," Georgia's frown deepened, "I became obsessed just like she was. I knew I wasn't crazy, I just needed to prove it."
You're not crazy, you're beautiful. It was a lie, Georgia really had thought she was crazy. She'd been grasping at straws back then.
"I read all of mom's old journals. Nate insisted I stopped but I never did. Then, at the start of school last year, half of a body was found in the woods. When I went to investigate, stories of werewolves running around my head, I found two guys. Scott and Stiles."
Willow tensed with worry that one or both of the boys were werewolves too.
"Stiles got caught but me and Scott didn't. The alpha found us, bit Scott. I helped Stiles realize what was wrong and we took care of him together with help from Derek Hale," it was weird to recount the insane story from the beginning, back when she was nothing but a loudmouth freak.
Georgia wasn't that girl anymore. She was strong—stronger than she'd ever been, no matter how many salty tears wet her tired face.
"We eventually found out the alpha was Peter Hale. He was killing the hunters responsible for setting his house on fire, leaving him in a coma for years. At winter formal was when he attacked me, and I turned into what I am now."
Finally, Georgia met Willow's eyes again. Willow didn't have the same cruelty in her stare any longer. Her brows were slightly furrowed, lips parted. She didn't know what to do or think or what would happen next.
"You think I wanted to be this?" Georgia's voice gave way at the end, cracking painfully, "I hate what I am. I might not be the monster that killed mom, but I might as well be."
She sniffled, trying to wipe her tears off against her shirt sleeve. The movement was enough to shock her, making her groan and bite her lip.
Still, Willow had to hear more. She needed to know everything, to realize how traumatizing what she was putting Georgia through was.
"Derek killed Peter that night, becoming the alpha. While he turned three other teenagers, Stiles helped me gain control. We had more problems, though," Georgia was growing even more tired from having to retell everything, "A kanima. A shapeshifter that turns into this lizard freak and had paralyzing venom.
"That's what killed Nate. While shit was going down at the station, I was helping Derek and his betas with the full moon," her lip trembled miserably, "We dealt with the kanima eventually, but that was when I tried to kill myself."
"Eichen," Willow said quietly, following along with the story. Her vision was blurred by the glossy sheen before her eyes, "What about your friend? The one you said died?"
"Well, for starters, the alphas killed one of Derek's betas. We fought them the other night, and we thought Derek died," Georgia stared off into space longingly, "This past weekend was hell. All the werewolves on the trip went psycho. We all nearly died, but afterwards, one of the alpha twins said Derek is alive. Now he has to decide rather he'll kill his remaining betas and join the alpha pack, or die by their hands."
Willow was enveloped by guilt and sympathy, "Are you okay?"
Georgia laughed sarcastically, yet no sweet joy was present. It was a hollow sound, one of the upmost dread and hurt, "No. I haven't been in a long time. So whatever you planned to achieve from locking me up, go ahead and do it. You gonna beat me? Kill me? Go the fuck ahead."
Willow quickly moved to turn off the machine connected to Georgia's chains. Then, Willow was unlocking and removing the chains. Georgia sighed at the removed weight, wringing her wrists out.
Suddenly, Willow was hugging the blonde. Georgia felt like she was about to throw up, quickly pushing her off.
"Don't touch me," Georgia warned, shooting up to her feet. Willow grew confused, "Just because you believe the fucking truth doesn't mean we're friends again. You know, I was just starting to trust you, Willow, and now this?"
She didn't know what to say at first, but eventually fumbled about, "This is a two way street. You didn't tell me about this shit when I agreed to take you in."
Georgia scoffed, "Yeah? Look how it turned out when you realized! You really have to wonder why I kept my goddamn lips shut?!"
Willow was startled by the outburst. She pressed her lips into a tight line, admiring the dingy floor instead of her sister's angered face.
Then, Willow turned and began to head for the stairs. Watching her leave so easily ignited another wrathful anger in Georgia, shouting after her, "Get back here! You don't get to just avoid this—avoid me!"
"I run away, okay?" Willow called hopelessly, the bags under her eyes more noticeable in the dim light, "It's what I do."
"Guess some things really don't change," Georgia tossed the words at her retreating back. Willow didn't say anything as she sulked to her bedroom, closing herself in.
Georgia grabbed the abandoned manila folder, thumbing through the paperwork. It was a series of articles from Beacon Hills. It even included Peter's murders with a bunch of red question marks drawn on.
At the bottom was Georgia's photo-strip with Stiles and her bright eyes. She smiled sadly, watching as a tear dropped onto the shiny image. Georgia quickly wiped it away, not letting it tarnish such a happy memory.
And even after it all, staring at that photo of her and her former lover brought a strange feeling of peace upon Georgia Ray.
Maybe he was still her anchor.
a/n
double update as promised. i hope you enjoyed, and if you have any questions on willow's backstory or you're confused, feel free to ask. the timeline may be a little confusing, but i hope it made sense.
also, next chapter will get back to the main plot. i know y'all came here for stiles but i hope you're here for georgia and her story, too.
as always, i love you all!!!!