𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ── 𝘚.𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘚𝘒𝘐

♡ 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗜𝗫𝗧𝗬-𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥 ♡

♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 sixty-four

bury a friend.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

JAMES GARCIA felt his stubble glide across his hand with every nervous rub of his neck. A chill ran up his spine and goosebumps littered the bare skin that hid underneath his unbuttoned collar.  With a bag slung over his arm and his bare fingertips - still adorned with a few rings - tapped against the wooden door, he waited patiently.

Perhaps his paranoia was unjust. Or perhaps this was a completely bad idea to begin with. 

He stepped away, turning his back to the door and opting to keep his mindless theories in his, well, mind. James could almost feel the cold air cradle around his skin and his footsteps echoed further down the hall, at least, until his name murmured back to him. 

"Jim." Derek Hale peeked from behind the door. Eyes dreary from exhaustion. Shoulders dropped in a usual sour fashion. However, that didn't stop him from raising both brows at the sight of him. "It's 4 in the morning. This better be important... or-"

"You'll tear my throat out. Got it. Heard it many times." The lawyer pushed his way into the Hale residence before glancing around rather erratically. "Is Peter here?"

Derek felt the muscles strain as he crossed his arms in distaste. He blew the hair out of his face - which was already a mess from his interrupted sleep - and folded both brows into another frown. "And here I thought you were here to see me."

The human Garcia turned to the werewolf with another stern look. "No, he's not here. He's out trying to make amends with Malia." He watched as James scrunched up his face with self-doubt and shook his head in dismay. "Why, what's up?"

James reached for the booklet in his left pocket, the paper snagging on his zippers and pricking at his fingers. But for some reason, just as the words 'Mystic Falls' peeked out from the material, he stopped. 

Instead, the booklet sunk back deeper into his pockets. His eyes averted Derek's and his enthusiasm dwindled.

It didn't seem fair. Derek Hale was already involved enough in the horror that had become James Garcia's everyday life. He didn't need any more burdens to carry. He did not need another family's baggage. 

"It's nothing." James shook his head and forced a smile. "Forget it. You very obviously need your beauty sleep." He found himself nodding along with his own words. The lawman pushed a pair of sunglasses over his eyes and spun his neck around to turn away. 

Derek Hale would've taken offense. That was until he heard the man's heart skip a singular beat and how quickly he seemed to back into the doorway under his stare. "James," he grasped the edge of his jacket in a swift motion. "What is it?"

Paranoia crept up his spine as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low tone and pulling out the paper from beneath his jacket. "You remember what Sybil said?" as his ringed fingers unfolded the paper, Derek Hale flickered his eyes between them and his face. "Well, lo and behold, I found out where this Elijah Mikaelson lives." 

He flicked the back of the paper with his thumb before presenting a proud smile on his stubbled face. 

"So?" 

His proud look faltered. "So, I did a bit of research." Jim pushed past the Hale with consistent ramblings. "The Mikaelsons aren't just vampires. Elijah isn't just a vampire. They're Originals." he spoke once more, mainly to himself. "Originals who can compel anyone to do just about anything they want... to forget anything they want."

Derek Hale didn't like his tone. Nor the way his eyes lit up as he said it. Truth be told, Derek didn't like any of this at all. 

"You live with a few sirens who can do the same thing. What's your point?"

The heavy duffel bag dropped to the table with molecules of dust circling through the air. Ignoring his question, the man rose one hand to shush him. "When I first moved here, I had no money. I didn't even have a last name. I took Marilyn's remember?" he froze. "Well, I always thought that my parents disowned me because they never liked Marilyn. Or Dallas. But that wasn't it."

The Werewolf stepped forward. 

"They disowned me because I started to look like this guy." He lifted the blurry printed photograph of Elijah he kept tucked inside the leaflet. "Because I'm not just his doppelganger. I'm his descendant." 

James inhaled sharply. "I have my family. I don't need another." he bowed his head. "But if Dallas won't flip her switch, I know he can definitely force her to."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Scott McCall approached the high school halls carefully, twisting his neck to every bare corner that passed his way with hesitation. His mind was a mess. A paranoia fiasco. It seemed like everybody had an agenda these days - and everybody looked to him for the answers.

But when he swallowed the lump in his throat, readjusting his stance and forcefully slowing his heartbeat, Scott tried his best to ignore every thought rushing through his twisted brain.

Dallas' locker slammed beside his face and a whiff of sadness radiated from her usual salty scent. It made him slower his pace a little - to reconsider approaching her at all.

"Hi."

That was all he could blubber out. He cursed inwardly. Great way to start the conversation, Scott. 

Hi, are you planning to kill my girlfriend?

Hi, sorry for insulting your family.

Hi, you aren't who you used to be.

The werewolf wanted to walk away right then and there. A part of him told him that maybe he should. After all, he felt like he had done enough already.

Scott shook his head and scrambled his eyebrows in a strained attempt to control his fast-paced thoughts. It wasn't until he realized how long the silence between them had lasted that he looked up once more.

Dallas was leaning against her locker. An amused glint in her eye while she crossed her arms, head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

He let his fingers slip from the straps of his backpack and fall to his sides. "You're listening to my thoughts, aren't you?"

Caught red-handed, the Siren pursed her lips before running her tongue over her teeth and turning away. "It's hard not to. You look like you're about to throw up." A smug grin caressed her face while she rummaged aimlessly through her locker.

"You, uh, you left last night. Malia wanted me to check if you... were... okay?" He ended his sentence on a high note. Like he made it up as he went along - which he did.

Furrowing a brow, the brunette glanced at him through the ridges of her locker. A flash of guilt flashed on her face before she covered it up with a clear of her throat. "Haven't you heard? One of the Dread Doctors put a hole in my side. I'm having the time of my life." Her words were coated with her usual sticky sarcasm.

Scott fumbled with the straps of his backpack and frowned. "Good thing Derek was there."

Her bitterness seemed to fade a tad. "Yeah." she hummed timidly. "Most people would've just left me there, I guess." her knuckles strained from underneath the skin while her words fell to a mutter. "Anyway, you can tell Malia-"

"Where did you go?"

Dallas blinked rapidly as he interrupted her rather abruptly. With eyebrows knitted intently and a determined look spread across his uneven features, Scott watched her curiously. "What?"

His casual demeanor slipped away and desperation started to set in. "When you left last night. Where did you go?"

She stepped back with misplaced distrust. "What does it matter?"

"Because.. because it does." Scott found himself grasping for any excuse within reach. No matter dumb it sounded. No matter how desperate it was. He had to give Dallas the benefit of the doubt.

The Siren placed one hand on her hip and the other on the side of the locker door while she narrowed her eyes once more. "I went home-"

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why? You know how my dad is." She quickly grew tired of his interruptions and hissed silently.

"No, why in the middle of the night?" He found himself rambling.

"Why not tell anybody?" The accusations spilled out quicker than he wanted. "Why be so secretive about it?"

Dallas scoffed but little humour lay in it. Instead, she leaned forward with menace becoming her mother tongue. "You wanna say something, Scott?"

He pulled her aside gently before glancing around and keeping his words hushed. "Theo told me what he saw." Scott didn't seem to notice her lost expression. Nor how she quirked a brow to encourage him to say more. 

"And what exactly did he see?"

Scott dropped both hands to his sides and shook his head in usual dismay. "You know, I knew you didn't like me that much, but going after Kira? What has she ever done to you, Dallas?"

The Garcia would've attempted to read his thoughts. Maybe put herself in his mindset to understand why he would even begin to accuse her of such a thing. But all she found herself doing was laughing. 

 "Okay, I love rumours. They remind me I'm still socially relevant. But I'm a little lost." She slung her bag over her shoulder and crossed her petite arms. "Seriously, what the hell are you talking about?"

Dallas watched him turn back to her with furrowed eyebrows. "I don't hate you. And I definitely haven't done anything to Kira." Her words came out with a concoction of laughter and occasional scoffs of disbelief.

"Oh so you leave, and minutes later, Kira starts talking in her sleep again?" He towered over her height which left her dimly staring up at him with wide eyes. "Theo heard it... and he saw you."

Cocking her head to the side, the Siren suddenly grew quiet. "Scott, Theo wasn't even there when I left." Her heartbeat remained steady - even underneath his heavy stare. As did her tone, which became sweet enough to rot her teeth. "I don't even remember seeing him for most of the night."

Scott grew calmer. His senses grew quicker with each moment that passed. Dallas wasn't blowing up with rage. She wasn't grinning smugly in his face. She was simply staring at him like it was the dumbest thing she had ever heard.

Truth be told, it had definitely made it high on her list. 

Fiddling with her necklace, Dallas' lips curled up into an opportunistic smile. "And Theo told you this?" Her eyelashes hung over her lids as she looked down. "Want me to teach him a lesson?" 

"No!" Scott objected, eyes wide and hands lifting slightly. "No. Just hold on, you didn't do anything to Kira?"

She ran her tongue over her teeth to bite back a nasty remark. "You make it sound so hard to believe." 

Dallas attempted to turn away once more, but again, got held up by a rather confused Alpha. "But why would Theo lie?" he rambled out. "Why would he want to split us up?"

The Garcia chewed on her bottom lip in discontent before connecting her eyes with his. "Because it's the easiest thing to do." 

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Malia Tate sat beside Stiles Stilinski, who seemed to avoid her eyes as he stared ahead at the Sheriff's station. "Thanks for dropping me off." He muttered. "I would've asked Scott.. but-"

"He's preoccupied with Theo. I get it." She beamed naturally. Malia waited until he got up before pestering him once more. "So, are you gonna tell him about your bite?"

Stiles could barely string a simple form of sentences together as he turned to her with wide eyes. "What? My.. what? How did you know?"

Malia gave him a bored look. "You've been pulling at your shoulder all day. It's distracting." She frowned. "Plus, I can smell the blood." She quirked her head. "I just don't get why you didn't tell anyone."

"And by anyone, you mean Scott or Dallas?" He scoffed. "That's not Dallas. You know that, right?"

Malia frowned. She didn't quite understand what that meant, but considering his tone, she didn't want to press further.  However, muttering under her breath, Malia made a promise. 

"Fine, but if you don't tell Scott, I will." 

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

"So if Theo wants us apart, you want him to let him think.. he won?"

Dallas watched Scott pace around the room. His persistent turning made her slightly dizzy in the brain. "Not won. Just that he succeeded, for now." she cocked her head to the side. "If he knows we're onto him.. he won't make a move."

"You're scarily good at this, you know?" Scott took a seat beside her. A long silence reigned over the two before he turned to her. "I'm sorry I accused you. I know you'd never hurt Kira. She's just becoming.. dangerous."

The Siren chewed on her bottom lip while kicking the dirt from the soles of her boots. "Maybe she doesn't mean to be." The girl muttered silently. "Maybe she's just trying to protect herself."

"But from what?"

"That's a really good question." Dallas swallowed down her words. She tried to speak once more but felt her brain cloud over in with muttered words. 

Woden's Hunt,

Scott gave her a curious gaze. "What's up? Headache?"

Also known as the Wild Ride or Wild Hunt. 

Dallas shook her head as she grasped her temples with a deep whimper. "Is it the fork?" He placed one hand on her shoulder to gently coax her towards an answer. "Dallas, what is it?"

"Just.. thoughts. It feels like she's shouting in my head."

A myth of devilish riders in the sky accompanied by black dogs, spectral beasts whose eyes glowed with fire. A Bearer of Death. 

"Who? Who's shouting in your head?"

Dallas felt a mental block to everything but her voice. 

And Guardian of the Supernatural, the black dog is also known by its more common name...

"Who's talking to you, Dallas?"

The Hellhound.

The words stopped but the eerie feeling of someone connecting themselves to her didn't falter. It felt like she was being smothered in a warm blanket. Dallas always heard thoughts - but they rarely ever spoke directly to her. 

This was something else. This person knew she was listening. And just like that, with the swift smack against the redhead's head blocks away, the connection snapped. 

And Dallas heard it all. 

"Lydia!"

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dropping the last bag into the trunk of his car, James took one last look at the town behind him. 

"Are you really going to Mystic Falls?" Derek cocked his head to the side. "Place seems like a death trap."

Jim placed a cap over his usually-gelled hair and gave him a boyish smirk. "Any more than it already is here?" He leaned against the rental. "Hey, uh, don't let Dallie do anything too stupid while I'm away. Or any of them, really."

"What are you gonna do when you encounter Elijah? Present him your case? He'll kill you." 

Rolling his eyes, James tapped his fingers against the metallic shine of the vehicle. "He might." he bowed his head. "But I'm willing to take that chance for my family."

Almost sensing his fears, the human flickered his eyes back up to the werewolf. "If you don't hear from me, you know, If I don't come back-"

"I'll come with-"

"No, you need to stay here.. because if I don't come back, I want you to get out of this town," he clenched his jaw. "And take Dallas with you."

Feeling the world settle on his shoulders, Derek nodded along almost robotically. "Promise me, Derek." Pressure had started to settle in as he spoke. "I don't trust Marilyn.. but I trust you."

"I promise."

☆ word count: 2,701. ☆

a/n: for those wondering, james is a mikaelson doppelganger which means dallas has very VERY distant mikaelson blood. i hope this makes sense. if it doesnt, i have a family tree drawn out in my drafts (: