damnatio memoriae
"Are we going to talk about it?" Kinsey asked, breaking the silence, surprised at herself for being the one to cave first, but silence with Scott wasn't something she could handle, especially not in such a desperate time. With everyone talking so little already, she needed as much conversation as she could get. Now that she was finally ready for it. Scott shrugged, feigning ignorance, telling her he didn't know what she meant. "Scott." Kinsey's voice broke under the pressure. "Please." She begged as he looked at her with sorrow, and slight surprise, and then, disappointment as he turned his head from her once again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, I wish things had been different, I do. I wish none of this had ever happened. But it did, and I can't change what I did. But I can't have you be mad at me about it forever. I did what I had to do, Scott. I didn't have another choice, he was going to hurt Stiles. If I could have done something else I-"
"It's fine." Scott cut her off, uninterested in hearing the reasoning she had for killing someone, if it was justified or not, his views on the matter remained the same.
"It's not fine." The brunette disagreed. "If it was fine you would be able to look at me, Scott. You don't think I can see the disgust in your eyes? You don't think it's the same look I have in my own every time I see myself in the mirror? I'm not proud of what I did. I didn't want to be like this, but sometimes... sometimes you end up in situations you never thought you would be in." The Angel trailed off, staring at the long road ahead, the guilt she felt now shared, he had been forced into a situation he never wanted to be in, multiple times, and he had forced her into some too.
There was a shared silence for a while as both considered the points that needed to be thought about, whether the trust that had been broken between them could be built up again, or if what she had done would be the end of their friendship.
"Did you like it?" Scott asked, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, unsure if it was a question he truly wanted the answer to, or if it would prove his nightmares to be true. That if it was ever him who killed someone, that he would enjoy it, that he would do it again, and become the nightmare he'd been having for over a year now.
Kinsey contemplated the question, she knew what answer Scott wanted, but she wasn't sure if it was the one she agreed with. Did the good outweigh the bad? The feeling of being a hero for the eternity of guilt? Was the euphoric feeling of that blood on her claws and the power it seemed to give to her worth everything she had lost? Her own innocence? Her friends? The ability to act like she wasn't becoming the very thing she once swore she would never become?
"It's not that simple." She told him, a vague answer, which she believed was the best option, the details kept to a minimum, that way, neither could hate the truth.
Scott nodded, it wasn't that simple, he could agree with that. For now, he left the matter there, it was something bound to be brought up again, perhaps for the rest of their lives the questions of the situation would continue to arise, but for now, he would put it aside and focus on the other matters of their life. He didn't focus on the pending problem that Parrish had called them for or the topic of Lydia, a sore subject for Kinsey, but the normal teenage conversation that should be expected from two friends—her recent breakup.
The two hadn't had much time to talk about the more typical matters in their life like that, with Noah and Lydia in the hospital, Dread Doctors and everything in between, they hadn't had time to think about it, or even to mention the fact that Isaac was back in town. While it was a relief to Scott that his old friend had returned, he knew there were things that would come back with the werewolf.
How are you doing? Scott asked, confusing the girl as her face contorted, unsure what he meant, whether he referred to how she was doing after killing someone. With the breakup, the werewolf clarified as Kinsey sighed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, pushing the stinging feeling the mention of her breakup brought back with it.
I'm fine, she told him, she hadn't had the chance to truly process her own breakup, sometimes it still didn't feel entirely real, as though it was a fever dream. A nightmare. She still reached to call Stiles when something happened or if she had a sudden thought while sitting around, until it all came back to her and reality hit. Then, she was left to sit in the aftermath of her crumbling life, a reality that she was slowly losing everyone in her life.
"You know, in some ways things feel like they're going back to how they used to be," Kinsey said, wistfully, there seemed to be some positives to her statement, even if it had happened in rather negative circumstances. Scott's brow raised, questioning how so. "Isaac's back, we're all falling apart, Beacon Hills is being plagued by some supernatural nightmare. I guess it just feels like I'm having deja vu." She muttered as the two of them pulled up behind Parrish's SUV, beside it stood the deputy and his brother, both staring down at the phone in the older man's hand, taking little notice of the two had pulled up.
"Some things never change." He said, looking at the girl in the corner of his eye, witnessing how that same look in her eyes remained as it had back then. In more ways than she meant, they had truly slipped back into old habits.
Awkward greetings were shared as the two teenagers stepped out to greet the brothers, Parrish caught them up, explaining the reason he had brought the two of them here as he held out his phone, a video already pulled up, a recording from a security camera. Immediately Kinsey felt a churning in her stomach, knowing that whatever he had witnessed on the footage wasn't going to be good, she could see the worry in both his and Isaac's eyes, as though this was something even they didn't see how they would defeat.
Hesitantly, Scott pressed play as Kinsey peered over his shoulder, both cringing slightly as they awaited the big event to happen. Suddenly, a large shadow broke through the wall, running out of the relay station building in the blink of an eye, leaving a trail of destruction behind it. Kinsey and Scott's eyes were open wide, their jaws on the floor. That looked big, Scott mumbled in fear as he played it again, trying to get another look at it, but as Parrish pointed out, it was too fast to get a good look. With a sigh, Scott lowered the phone. You know what it is, don't you? Isaac said in a tone of dread. The last Chimera.
Parrish guided the three teenagers into the building, slowly walking through the wreckage of the crime scene that the last Chimera had created last night. Scott stopped at a puddle of blood that had been smeared on the floor, kneeling down at it as his hand lingered over it. He turned to the deputy, questioning if he still had a black light. Parrish pulled it out of his pocket, handing it over to the werewolf as he examined the blood. With the UV light shining over it they could see fumes of mercury rising from the scene of the attack. Mercury meant Chimera.
But what was it doing here? The deputy asked as they followed Scott further into the scene. Why come here and kill some random communications tech? His brother followed up. "Maybe it likes to kill." Scott proposed. "Maybe that's just what it does." As he spoke those words Kinsey's head bowed, unable to feel as though it wasn't a slight dig toward her, as though he was saying there were similarities between her and the last Chimera. Killers. Killers who couldn't help themselves but run around and slash people with no true cause.
That's terrifying, Parrish mumbled beneath his breath, it was clear that even after this long all of the trouble and death that came with the supernatural was still fresh to him, perhaps it was the realization that he was one of these creatures was what made it so terrifying. That he too was a harbinger of death. Just like the girl in front of him. Just like the girl who had been slashed and made comatose because of what she could do. It was all terrifying.
"Parrish, how many bodies do you actually see when you dream about the Nemeton?" Kinsey asked as she turned to look at the deputy, knowing a harbinger of death's dreams were always something to be feared.
"Everyone."
·❥·
With the uncomfortable feeling in her gut remaining from her morning discovering the crime of the latest Chimera, Kinsey pulled up to the Tate family farm, in tow, all of the supplies that she'd gathered to help her older sister find her mother. The Desert Wolf. She had tried to dig up every piece of information she could on the woman, she had spent most of her night awake trying to figure out more about the woman, hoping that something would lead her to where the woman was now. But it proved harder than she thought. It was like trying to find her own mother, that was a task nobody had proved successful in, at least that was what her uncle Chris told her on a weekly basis when he called her to catch up, hoping to provide her with better news.
Trying to find The Desert Wolf made one thing clear to Kinsey- her father had a type. Sociopathic killers who tended to abandon their daughters. No wonder she and Malia bonded so quickly, the two of them were two peas in a pod, two halves of a whole.
She looked at the supplies gathered in the passenger seat of her car, everything to make a crime board of her own, something typically left to Stiles, but he was occupied with his father, she was in no position to ask him for help, and Malia specifically requested to keep it between them. This time she was on her own, mostly. She had watched the boy stand at his crime board enough for her to know how it worked, it couldn't be that hard to channel him when creating one.
Kinsey grabbed the pile of supplies, her arms full as she approached the Tate house, watching as the door swung open as Henry Tate greeted her with a bright smile. A much different greeting to their first, but since then he had become fond of the girl, seeing how much his daughter grew in her presence, how similar the two of them were. The man's smile dimmed as he looked at all of the supplies in the girl's arms, immediately confused as to what she needed it for, especially the images of massacred bodies that the wind swept out of her arms.
With a nervous chuckle Kinsey insisted that it was a project they'd been working on, that Coach had a twisted way of teaching his classes. A plausible lie that the man brought as he offered her a helping hand, leading her through to his daughter's bedroom where she looked at some more horrifying images on her bed. Without another word about the disturbing pictures, Henry chose to leave the two to work on their "project" in peace, and to go and find something to erase what he had seen from his mind before lunch.
The pair had spent hours studying what Kinsey had found, continuing their search for more, the two ignoring as their phones rang. Scott had called them both a dozen times, clearly whatever it was was important, but after seeing what she had this morning, Kinsey didn't mind delaying the news for a few more hours, giving her stomach lining time to rebuild before she saw more blood and gore. Or before receiving any more bad news.
"This is useless." Malia sighed, tossing the pile of images off of her bed in an uproar. Sitting here with her sister staring at the bloody images had grown tiresome, making no progress in trying to find The Desert Wolf had grown frustrating, and she couldn't take another moment.
"Lia, look." Kinsey began, immediately filling the coyote with dread as she anticipated what the other girl was going to say, it clearly wasn't good news. "I know you didn't want to get anybody else involves but..." She continued as a low growl started from the werecoyote. "Hear me out. I think I know someone who might know where we're going wrong, someone who might have an idea of where to start with this search. Someone who's just as interested in finding your mother as we are." Kinsey proposed, Malia's growling faltered, her interest peaked. Do it, she insisted.
The two girls had only managed to hide out for so long. After repeatedly hearing the voicemails of the sisters, Scott finally gave up, choosing to do things the old-fashioned way. Finding the two of them in person, begging face-to-face. He began with Malia, the one who seemed the easier of the sisters at the moment, the one with a little less on her plate, or at least he presumed so. The Alpha pulled up to the farm on his dirtbike, barely able to reach the porch before the girl that he came for met him at the door, eager to keep him outside.
"You didn't have to come all the way out here," Malia told the wolf, lingering at the door while a quiet Kinsey lingered on the other side, hidden from plain sight, keeping her breaths and heart as steady as possible in the hopes of not alerting the Alpha of her presence.
Scott shrugged, reminding her that she hadn't been answering her phone, it was clear that she wasn't busy if she had been able to rush out to the door to meet him. She was ignoring him. It became more clear when the coyote reassured him that she couldn't help him, she didn't need to hear him out, she knew why he was here, Kinsey had told him about this morning, she kept her in the loop even when she didn't want to be in it. She had to make up for keeping her out of it for so long. Not right now, Malia added, insinuating that she was busy, but as her little sister had proposed, she kept the details to a minimum.
"What if I told you you were the only one I have left?"
Malia shook her head, she knew that his statement was a lie. She was sure that Isaac was more than willing to help him in any escapade the last Chimera would bring him into, and if he were brave enough to make up with Stiles, he would have an extra hand. But the two he wanted help from the most, she and Kinsey, were already wrapped up in troubles of their own, ones that she thought bigger than his, more personal. Her sole focus was finding her mother.
"Anything that's happened between us..."
Malia cut the boy off. "I'm talking about something that's going to happen. Something that I'm going to do. And you're not going to like me much after I do it." There was a familiarity to their situation. One of them doing something they knew the other wouldn't like, but doing it anyway. That had happened a few times between the two, and the severity only seemed to grow. Malia's eyes began to fill up, feeling a sense of guilt that she wasn't used to as she looked at the wolf on her front porch. The desperate friend in front of her. But if he couldn't forgive Kinsey, then there was no doubt that he wouldn't forgive her for what she was planning to do.
"Is that why I hear two heartbeats in there?" Scott asked, assuming that at least one of the other heartbeats belonged to the other girl who felt as though she couldn't talk to him right now, that was partly his own fault, something that he hadn't quite been able to see before, but as he stood in front of another person who felt they couldn't talk to him, it was becoming clearer. Scott knew he was losing his pack, but he was losing more than that. "And why yours is beating so fast?" He asked, the were-coyote becoming more nervous.
"Scott, go home." Malia pleaded "I can't help."
The Alpha didn't plead for another moment, he stepped back slowly, looking at the betrayed girl who began heading back inside, proceeding to do whatever it was she needed to do whether he would like it or not. As he climbed back on his dirtbike the were-coyote stepped back inside with her back resting against the door, closing her eyes as she took a deep, shaky breath, composing herself for a split second, waiting for the revving of Scott's bike to grow distant before returning to the task at hand.
Did you get anything out of him? She asked, turning to the three on the floor. Braeden had him in a headlock as the two wrestled on the floor while Kinsey knelt in front of him with one of her sharpest daggers pointing at his neck, still, the man didn't seem intimidated enough by the two of them. Not yet, Braeden strained as she continued to fight the man. Malia approached with a boot to the man's crotch, the two sisters and Braeden nodded at one another, pulling the former Soviet Special Forces officer from the ground into the fireplace, his back hitting against the stone mantelpiece as he groaned, all three holding him down as Kinsey remained with her knife on his neck, almost piercing the skin.
"You think you can make me talk?" He asked. "I am Spetsnaz. Soviet Special Forces. In battle, we kill our own wounded." He said as Kinsey pressed the dagger harder to his neck. "You could tear out my fingernails, cut my lips with razors. I'll still say nothing."
"Correct me if I'm wrong. But your section is out of work and broke, right?" Braeden asked him.
"You won't get a word out of me." The man insisted.
Kinsey looked at her sister for a split second, the desperate, angry look on her face. The look of a person desperate to find their mother. She had been that person. She turned back to the Soviet man, ten thousand dollars she offered him, taking Braeden and Malia by surprise, both raising a brow before turning back to the man who seemed interested in the offer. Kinsey counted down, her offer running out. Quickly, he agreed, ten thousand.
Flicking through the thousands of dollars provided by the Argent girl, the man sat on the couch, suddenly willing to tell them all he knew about The Desert Wolf. How she was last seen close to the Canadian Border, how she refused to travel by plane, that she stayed away from surveillance cameras when she could. Braeden looked at the two teenage girls, reassuring them that it meant they had time, both relieved to hear it.
There was another reason she wouldn't fly by plane, he added. She wasn't traveling alone. Each of the three women furrowed a brow at the man, confused about who The Desert Wolf would be willing to travel with if she insisted on keeping such a low radar. She has a hostage, he told them. An animal doctor. Kinsey and Malia felt their hearts drop to their stomachs. Deaton.
·❥·
Stood over her selection of weapons, Kinsey hummed, wondering what would best be used in a situation like this, what kind of weapon would help aid her in a fight against The Desert Wolf, the notorious killer that hadn't been found in years. Not even by Braeden, the best mercenary she'd ever met. Maybe she was the only one she had met, but that was beside the point. Braeden was the best around, and even she had driven herself insane searching for the woman. Perhaps her collection of arsenal wasn't strong enough, and perhaps it never would be. If people struggled so much against the likes of her own mother who had not even half the reputation of The Desert Wolf, perhaps nothing would be enough to aid her in this fight. But even so, she wouldn't stop. She would help Malia and fight until she had nothing left in her. Like a sister. A title she may not deserve right now, but one she definitely aimed to earn.
Irritated, she slammed the lid of her dagger case closed, turning to place it back in its designated place in her closet, only to be startled by a figure standing in the doorway. The startled brunette quickly resumed her usual breathing pattern when recognizing that shadow in her doorway, one that had often appeared in this apartment that she found herself living in again, her only option with Mrs. Martin so infuriated by her presence. She should have known he would turn up here in due time, knowing that this apartment, no matter how many memories it contained, how much she hated coming back here, would always be home to her.
Someone's jumpy, he commentated as she resumed placing the dagger case back in her closet, choosing not to give him a reason for her uneasiness. So you finally figured out those electrified windows? She asked him with a slight smirk, continuing to clean up her arsenal.
Isaac nodded with a similar smirk, he recalled the time he hadn't known about them, when the two of them were still a secret, when her uncle was so against werewolves he wouldn't dream of allowing one into his home, let alone into his business, his family. I'm quite familiar with Argents now, he told her, he was practically one of them after his long time being around them, learning their tricks of the trade as he worked for Argent Arms.
She had a feeling she knew the reason for his unexpected appearance, she assumed that living with Scott meant the two of them talked, and in turn, he had been told about his conversation with Malia this morning, how neither of them were willing to help him, and now, he was here as an advocate for the Alpha and his cause. But as Malia told Scott, they couldn't help, not now. It couldn't be done. And she wasn't convinced the werewolf truly wanted her help. How could he when he could hardly look at her? When talking seemed like a grueling chore?
"If you're here to talk me into helping with the last Chimera, save your breath." She said bluntly, turning to the werewolf with folded arms. "I can't help him."
"Kinsey, I know you almost as well as you know yourself. I know things have changed since I left but they haven't changed enough for you to not help Scott for nothing-"
"It's not for nothing." Kinsey interrupted him. "I betrayed his trust, he doesn't want to talk to me. I can't help that. I know where I'm not wanted."
"The Kinsey I know wouldn't let that stop her. A Kinsey who is wrapped up in something else and can't help him would. So tell me what it is, this other thing that's taking up all your time. What is so big that you can't put it off to help Scott? That you can't stop Theo?"
"I can't tell you." Kinsey shook her head. "But it's important."
"More important than helping Scott?" He asked. Kinsey nodded, confident that it was. Scott was like family, he was found family. But this was her blood. This was a promise she had made to her sister. She couldn't betray another person, it was hard enough before. Isaac sighed, she was one of the most stubborn people he knew. It was one of the things he admired about her, her stupid, annoying perseverance, but it was one of the most frustrating things about her. "Fine. Don't tell me. I'll leave you alone." The wolf insisted, throwing his hands up as he headed toward the door.
Kinsey watched with folded arms, slightly surprised that he would give up so easily. That wasn't the Isaac she had once known. He made it to the door before turning around, as surprised as she was, only because she hadn't caved yet, confessing whatever it was that had her so occupied. He thought the two of them were different from that. Nothing? He questioned, showing his surprise as she remained silent, her lips straight, locked tight, but her eyes telling another story. One that wanted to tell him, that wanted to collapse and confess everything just so she had told someone and gotten the pressure off of herself. But something was stopping her.
He stepped closer to the girl with a furrowed brow, attempting to read deeper into the situation as her head raised, lessening the height between them as she looked into the blue eyes that had narrowed on her, searching inside the girl he believed he knew so well. Who have you promised? What have you gotten yourself into? Isaac asked, listening to her heartbeat as he talked, trying to get his answers. Is it Stiles? He asked. Derek? Argent? Finally, Malia, was the name he spoke, the name that caused her heart to skip a beat, hitting a nerve.
Isaac began to piece together what he knew. What he'd learned from Kinsey, what he had heard from Scott who called him at a loss after his exchange with Malia. And finally, the small amount of information he knew about the were-coyote herself. Soon enough his face dropped slightly as he came up with a conclusion, the were-angel's eyes widening as she feared that he'd figured it out. That he really did know her that well.
"This is about The Desert Wolf, isn't it?" He questioned. "Malia's trying to find her and that's why the two of you won't help Scott." Isaac stated plainly as Kinsey tried to resume her poker face. "I want to help." Her face slipped, stammering to find something to say. "Let me help." He pleaded with the girl, taking ahold of her hand, causing every hair on her body to stand tall. "I might not have been around to help before, but I am now. I'm back, and I want to help, Kins. So let me in. I want to help."
"I- I can't." Kinsey shook her head. "I promised Malia. I already involved Braeden. I can't, Isaac. I can't ask you to do this. You haven't seen what she's capable of."
"You're not asking. I'm offering." He said. "No, I'm insisting." He changed his mind, choosing the demand of his involvement being the better option when dealing with someone as stubborn as her.
Kinsey couldn't help but feel relief that he insisted, that he refused to leave this apartment until he had her agreement that he would be involved in the mission she and Malia had managed to entangle themselves in, one that seemed to be growing harder than they had anticipated. She was glad someone knew her so well. And that it was him who did. Someone who wouldn't use it against her. Who never had. Who instead used it to help. To ensure she was safe.
She felt the pressure on her hand as he squeezed it, a reassurance that he was here, that even when it still felt so surreal at times, like a fever dream, he was back here in Beacon Hills. Like it was the old times again. Like he'd never left at all. With a lump in her throat, and with lingering hesitance, she nodded, dragging him into the trouble that she and Malia found themselves in.
With that matter out of the way, Isaac admitted that he did come here for something else. That he needed a favor from her. And from her uncle. One that neither Argent would be thrilled by. One that would require visiting the person who seemed to have more answers than they wished he did. The only one who might know what creature The Dread Doctors may have resurrected as their Last Chimera.
Following behind her uncle and Isaac, Kinsey walked into the old man's room at the center, her hands dug deep into her pockets as she clenched her fists in fear and anticipating, dreading the first time she would see her grandfather since all of that time ago when he wreaked havoc on all of this town, so determined to gain power that he would destroy everything in his path. Even his own family. A lot had happened since that time. She had become something much different, the kind of thing he was disgusted by, that he would be sickened to hear. The man had been locked in the same four walls, oozing the same black liquid she remembered him oozing that night, he had been out of touch from the world, only occasionally being visited by his son when the time was absolutely desperate. Like now. But she had always avoided it. Nobody had ever asked for her to come here, nobody else would dare. And perhaps for anyone else, it wouldn't even have been a consideration that she would come here and see the man.
Even with her absence from the man's life, for some reason, she didn't doubt that the man knew what she was. Somehow he would have gained that information, and relished in the fact that she exhibited such power, one that he would see one day when he finally gathered the strength to pull himself out of this dark room.
Tissues stained with black goo filled the room around him, acting as clutter as he sat central of the room, staring out of the window into the abyss of the night, his back to the three of them. A trio that needed no introduction to him, he could identify them by their mere presence and the tension that they brought with them. The suffocating fear. The hatred.
"Nothing pleases me more than a surprise visit," Gerard spoke, his voice raising the hairs on the teenage girl's neck, a voice that she had managed to forget, but it immediately brought back all of the feelings she had suppressed about the man. "Especially from you." He spoke, turning his head to the mirror in the corner, looking at the reflection of his granddaughter that cowered as she stood beside Isaac.
"Do you know why I'm here?" Argent asked, placing a case on the table, taking the focus off of his niece.
"I have heard rumors." The man told them as he stood weakly from his wheelchair. "A few bits of gossip manage to reach even this dark corner of Beacon Hills." Gerard continued, confirming the suspicions that Kinsey had, that the man would know about her and what she'd become. Argent grew uncomfortable at the thought, he too had hoped that the news would be kept from Gerard, in the fear that if the man ever did manage to get out of this place, he would head straight for the largest source of power he knew. His own granddaughter.
Chris opened the case, pulling out a yellow wolfsbane flower, the only thing the teenage girl had ever seen incite more excitement into her grandfather than the idea of the Kanima being under his control. "How long have you had that?" He asked his son as black liquid continued seeping from his nostrils. The younger Argent tossed it at the man's feet, watching as he jumped down to the floor like an eager dog, feasting upon the greenery.
Kinsey was sickened by the sight, not because it was embarrassing to see the man so feral, but because she knew what this meant, that they had just allowed something horrible to happen in exchange for answers. That they had just allowed Gerard Argent to become a free man again, as though it didn't put them in jeopardy. Now as she looked down at the man she questioned her agreement to it all, wondering whether she should have said no when her uncle asked if this was really what she was willing to do. The two Argents couldn't help but feel disgusted by their own actions as they watched it all unfold.
The man began growing, hunched over on all fours, his fingernails scratching against the carpet as the three witnesses cringed, Kinsey cowering further behind Isaac as she gripped onto him as she buried her head in his arm, unable to watch it. The man coughed into his hand, accustomed to seeing the black liquid in his palm, but for the first time in over a year, it was red. Scarlet. The blood of a healthy man. He gathered his strength as he stood up, looking at the disgusted trio in front of him.
All this to help Scott? Gerard questioned. "You know about The Dread Doctors, don't you?" Chris asked, skipping the conversation that his father wanted to have.
"So they did succeed?"
"Tell us what it is." Kinsey demanded of the man, feigning her confidence as she released Isaac, a single step closer to the man she'd grown to fear so much.
"Oh, not what it is. What is was." He shook his head. "A monster whose only purpose was to kill. Not for sustenance, not for revenge, not for any rational impulse other than the drive to end life wherever it's found." Gerard spoke with a step for every word until he was right in front of Kinsey and her shaky breaths and pulsating heart that grew faster with every second that she was in his presence. "It also has a rather personal connection to our family."
"La bete." She muttered, reminded of the story Allison once told her in sophomore year. A tale of the Argents she had dug up as part of a history project. The story of a large beast.
"The Beast of Gevaudan."