And so, the Rookwood family was reunited in their living room at 3 am. After the disastrous events of last night, no one felt comfortable going to sleep. Yes, everyone survived, which was part of their goal, but still, Scott's mom was taken, and Cora was still dying, not to mention Scott, in his desperation, stupidly left with Deucalion.
Michelle especially felt extremely guilty for being unable to do something to help Cora, they already spent all the way home trying to convince her she tried her best, because, hell, she even started to bleed from her nose by the time her parent took her home, but she was just as hardheaded as anyone else in the family.
"I know I can do something, but she was just- ", she let an exasperated breath go out, "it was there. I could feel it, but it was like, like it was cloaked." Everyone looked at her, but no one was able to say anything to help her. Frustrated, Michelle only sighed, standing up she said, "I'll go meditate. Maybe the spirits can guide me to an answer." And left the room. Everyone looked at the others, not really sure how to proceed.
Alistair's parents had already made their declaration to the FBI, and they should be out of their hair for a while, at least, until the sheriff returned.
In the profound silence of the dawn, everyone was in their own mind, but Alistair was stressed, they needed to come up with a plan to do something and do it fast.
"You said Scott left with Deucalion, right?", was David's voice, breaking their silence. Alistair nodded. "I've had encounters with him before, your mom and I will try to find him and talk with him. He can't go trusting Deucalion with anything."
Feeling his energy start to renew, with his father's words. They were finally deciding what to do. "While you two are on that, I'll go to the Argent's, they must be there with Stiles." He paused for a moment, thinking what else to say, then, he pointed to his father, "you and Chris worked on those maps. Maybe we can use them to deduce where will be the next person taken or where the missing guardians are."
And lastly, they all looked at John, waiting to know what he'll be doing. He raised his eyes from the floor, feeling their gazes on him. He shrugged, and said, "I'll just go to Derek's place; he's not having it fun right now." Everyone smirked at him with their knowing brows raised, he only scoffed, "oh come on, laugh all you want. I'm new to this stuff."
Letting out a loud laugh, Esther stood up and said, "I think it's adorable." Then, she retreated to take the equipment they would need.
When he was about to leave the room, David stopped Alistair, "I know this doesn't make any sense now, but, when the time comes, just trust Chris." But, before Alistair could question that cryptic message, David was already out of sight.
Alistair hoped to never have to enter that house again, but there he was, in Chris' studio, alongside Stiles and the Argents. They were discussing who the next guardian to be taken would be. Stiles and Alistair were convinced Chris was the next one, because someone has written his name with blood in the doors of the hospital's elevator for a reason.
"I think it could have been Morrell, she knows more than she says, maybe she wants to help." Was Allison's voice.
"Well, she is the alpha's emissary. One of them knew Jennifer before, she could know something." Alistair was rationalizing, trying to understand all the different pieces of information, and even more, trying to leave aside his distaste towards Morrell. "But more than to help us, I think, is because they are scared of her. Of what she can do once the sacrifices are finished."
While Stiles was trying his best to not freak out thinking about his father's state, Alistair could only move to his side, softly rubbing his shoulder while the boy was seated on a couch.
"Jennifer's tactics are peculiar, like moving pieces on a board." Chris started, only to be interrupted by his daughter.
"And you are one of them."
Sighing, the hunter said, "we won't wait until her next move." Then, he grabbed a big map of the city and accommodated it on the table. "Everything she's done, she's done it over the telluric current, Melissa and the sheriff have to be over one of them."
(...)
While approaching the loft's door, he heard Isaac's voice, his voice sounded like an ultimatum, charged with determination and resolve, the boy said, "you can stay here, perfecting the art of doing nothing." When the boy started to walk, he came face to face with John. Looking back, Isaac only breathed and muttered a soft, "sorry," and kept going his way.
Upon reaching the door, he heard Derek and Peter talking about Isaac changing his loyalties for Scott.
When he finally entered, both werewolves looked back at him, John only shrugged and said, "sorry for showing up in these tense times, I think we have matters to hands."
(...)
As he was running through the forest's darkness, he tried to regulate his speed, as to not let his wife get lost. Amidst the confusing darkness, and the silence of the night, filled, to the human ear, with only the natural sounds from a forest, David could hear her in a significant distance, she was running, and doing it fast, trying to escape from something, or someone. Then, just behind the sound of her fast steps, he also heard another pair of them, these ones were faster and accompanied with growls.
Then, after around ten minutes, it all stopped in a small clearing. The woman was having a conversation, or more like a discussion. She was protected by a seal of mountain ash. It was no surprise to David when she mentioned Deucalion in the same sentence as death and killed. Then, the last part of their conversation was said. He heard Deucalion's voice, a voice he would've been happy never hearing again. "The lies a person says begging for their life." From behind the shrubs, he could see, clear as they, the apparently placid face of Deucalion, his expression so serene and unsettling.
"It's all the truth." And those simple words were enough to make Deucalion's facade fall. In instants, the before placid expression on his face changes, turning into a deep frown and angry grimace, swiftly, the man took his cane and threw it against the woman, embedding it on her shoulder, making her stumble back, breaking the mountain ash sealing.
As the woman fell, Scott rushed to her side, stopping the alphas from killing her. Seconds later the teenager felt a presence behind him, or more like two presences, to be more exact.
"Well, well, well. David Rookwood, we meet again." Deucalion's face now had a wicked smirk again.
Deucalion opened his mouth, but, before he could answer, Esther's voice, stern and strong, flew through the space, while holding a rigid expression, keeping her chin up, she said, "I see our warning was fruitless."
From the floor, with clenched teeth, Morrell said, "Miss. Rookwood."
"Marin." Was all the Keeper said.
When Deucalion looked like he was about to speak, David took the turn to make his last ultimatum, "if you lot want to see another day, I suggest you to leave. Now." While the other three alphas looked at each other before looking back at their leader, the man only looked directly at David, his lips in a thin line, before he gestured with his hand to the others to leave.
Seeing the other leaving, David approached Morrell under Scott's gawked face, he bent in front of her and pulled the cane from the woman's shoulder. He looked at it for a moment, "you'll live. It didn't touch anything important."
When Scott asked her to tell them what she knew about Jennifer, she only told them they needed to find the Nemeton.
(...)
"David and I have been studying the currents. The place where she sacrificed them, it's not the same place where their bodies were found." Chris explained.
They were looking over the map with a blue light, going through the places where the sacrifices were made, when Stiles mentioned she wouldn't use the same place twice, unless she failed, which took them back to the only failed sacrifice, Deaton, on the bank's vault. And so, it was decided, they would go to the bank.
(...)
While the Argents got ready, Chris checking different fire guns and Allison a couple of gigantic daggers, Alistair was standing next to Stiles while checking his arrows and the small daggers he had on his sleeves, ankles, pant legs and waist. Stiles only had a gawked and deeply perturbed look in his eyes, watching everyone.
"I thought you were retired." Stiles couldn't help but comment.
"Retired, yes. Defenseless, no. Now, be sure to keep your phone on and tell us when Scott reappears." Was Chris's answer.
They heard a sound by the door, Alistair had seen the new visitant first. Isaac stood by the door and said, "I don't know how to shoot or use a crossbow, but, well, I'm getting pretty good with these." And then, he showed his left hand, making his claws appear. Alistair smirked at him, and, when their eyes connected, he winked, making Isaac smile too.
(...)
When it was decided, they took different paths, Stiles would go to school, while the rest went to the vault.
Allison and Isaac were gathering things inside of Chris' car, before he left, the older man stopped Alistair, out of ear reach to the others.
"I know you don't know me, much less trust me, but I need you to do it today."
And Alistair remembered his father's words, "I know this doesn't make any sense now, but, when the time comes, just trust Chris." So, he nodded, giving the man the sign to talk fast.
(...)
The flickering candles casting shadows that danced along the walls, enveloping the dimly lit room in an otherworldly glow. Arranged meticulously in a perfect circle on the floor, their flames were the sole source of illumination, casting a soft, ethereal light that accentuated the silence and solitude. Within the center of this mystical portrait, Michelle sat, her hands gently resting on her lap, as she whispered incantations into the hushed air.
Each word uttered, carrying the weight of her desires and intentions, resonated with an air of determination and longing. She sought to tap into the realm of the spirits, to establish a fleeting connection that would grant her audience and guidance. It was a daunting task, for Michelle had no ancestral lineage to draw upon, no familiar spirits to lend their wisdom. She stood on her own.
As she continued her silent chanting, the room seemed to hold its breath, a palpable anticipation building with each passing moment. Michelle's unwavering focus and unwavering belief were her only companions.
Standing on one corner, with his arms over his chest, David was watching his daughter, silently praying for her to succeed.
It went like that for over half an hour. When suddenly, the girl gasped for air, opening widely her eyes. Looking up to her father, she only said, while standing up in a rush, "I need to call Bonnie, right now." And she went to grab her phone in a hurry.
(...)
Once they entered the vault, Allison commented it was empty, then, Chris took out an electric baton, turning it on, he nodded in Alistair's direction, before using it on Isaac, leaving the boy on the floor. Alistair could only say a heavy, "I'm sorry", before swiftly grabbing Allison, who was still in shook by his father's actions, and handcuffs her arm to the bars on the side of the vault.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Allison tried to no avail to free herself.
Her father, glaring at her and leaving his gun on the floor, only said, "I'm sorry, but today, you'll have to trust me. David and I have known it for a while. She doesn't follow the currents; she's synchronized with them."
Then, not even two minutes after, she appeared, and smirking, said, "now, this is a sacrifice." She stopped for a moment, looking between Alistair and Chris, before fixing her eyes on Alistair. "You know, for an organization as wide as yours, it's really difficult to find a Keeper." She kept glancing between the hunter and the Keeper, only to finally smirk wider and say, "but, at the end of the day, you are also guardians." Then, with a sinister smile, she tried to approach Alistair.
Her path was interrupted when she stopped abruptly, it was like every time she tried to approach him with her ill intents, a headache attacked her, she looked at him confused and irritated after her last failed attempt.
The boy only smiled, "I'm not in the menu for today, sorry. My- " he felt the cold touch of the big fang in the necklace adorning his neck, " -let's say, Guardian Angel wouldn't let me." He saw how her face twisted into a very angry and sour grimace, then, out of nowhere, dark surrounded them along with a shrieking cry. And, as soon as it came, it left, and with-it Chris.
Alistair only looked at where the hunter used to be, remembering his words.
"I know you don't know me, much less trust me, but I need you to do it today. She's going to come for me, and I need you to let her. There, with them, I have more chances to save them."
After the moment of shock, while Isaac was trying to stand from the ground, Alistair used the keys to free Allison. She was hysterical, yelling, "why did you let him do that?!, Why would he do that?!"
Alistair could understand her, they were filled with uncertainty, God know what he would do if one of his parents was taken, he could only grab her by the arms, looking eyes with her and said, "I know you don't understand, but this way we have more chances to save them."
She only shook her head, and teary-eyed looked at Alistair again before saying, "they are all going to die, right?"
Alistair's voice was stern but also reassuring, "we'll save them." And then, he did something he didn't think he would ever do, he hugged her, trying to give the comfort she so desperately needed. He felt Isaac's presence by his side, and a hand on his shoulder.
(...)
The boy sat there, watching as Cora breath asleep, while Peter was trying to convince Derek to give up his alpha spark to heal Cora. But there was something about Peter that unsettled him, he knew Peter was saying this to Derek not only with the intention of healing Cora, but there was also something he thought he would win something from it, and that, stopped John from trusting him.
When Derek looked back at him, questioning, John said, "what he says is truth, I've seen it. Just give Michelle an hour before rushing in." Derek locked eyes with him, silently thanking him, and nodded.
(...)
They had gathered on Deaton's clinic, discussing how to find the Nemeton, so they could find the missing parents.
"It has to be over one of the currents or maybe on the intersection of two." Stiles was trying to theorize.
"Or maybe the intersection of all of them." Alistair added, some of them nodded.
Stiles added, "I only know it's the place where Derek took Paige to die."
"My father and Gerard went there once, but Gerard can't remember where it is, and my dad obviously can't tell us." Was Allison's apport.
"Then, how are we going to find it?" That was the million-dollar question, asked by Isaac.
Without looking at them, more like looking into the nothing, Deaton said, cryptic as always, "there's a way, but it's dangerous. We need Scott." Then, Deaton, went on to explain the plan. The three teenagers would sacrifice themselves instead of their parents, dying for a few minutes, but also, creating a darkness in their hearts.
And so, Deaton and Stiles went to find Scott.
(...)
They threw the door, maybe a little too hard, to open it. Just entering, with David behind her, Michelle rushed into explaining under the gaze of the three men in the room, "I found it, why I couldn't do anything before. It's called Expression." She said as if it was the most obvious thing to say, but, seeing no one actually understood, she continued her explanation, "it's a form of dark magic, some even say it's the purest form of dark magic. Now, guess what empowers it?" she looked at them while they looked at each other, she sighed, "it's empowered by death, murder, massacres, what Jennifer's been doing, it all comes back to it, she's used all those deaths to empower it."
"And what can you do to it?" Questioned Derek.
"I'll do my own form of Expression." They all gawked at her, what she said made very clear it was not recommended, "as I will obviously not use those deaths to empower it, I'll have to channel power from somewhere else, meaning the three of you who are supernatural. Thank God two of you are alphas." She laughed clapping her hands, and then said, "now, let's start the show."
(...)
Sometime later, they were gathered again on the clinic, each one of the three teenagers brought items significant to their parents. Each one of them, would have someone to bring them back, Deaton with Scott, Lydia with Stiles, and Isaac with Allison.
They were going to be dived into tubs filled with water and ice. And, for some reason, Stiles thought that was a good moment to tell Scott his father was back in town.
And so, they went down in the water, giving their lives, even if temporarily, in change for their parent's.
(...)
Lying motionless on the cold floor, David, Derek, and Peter found themselves trapped within a tight circle of salt, their bodies immobilized and powerless to move. While David was tranquil, Derek and Peter's eyes widened in dread as they beheld Michelle, standing tall amidst a ring of flickering candlelight, her voice resonating with a haunting melody. She began her incantation, her words carrying an otherworldly power that pierced through their very beings.
"Symbole du masque et de l'ombre, embrace-toi. Embrace-toi."
With each repetition of the ancient words, a surge of energy coursed through them, like invisible tendrils tearing at their essence. Agonizing howls of pain escaped their lips, their frames convulsing with increasing intensity. Brilliant lights emanated from their eyes, a fierce glow that mirrored the torment within.
As the chant continued, they felt their strength draining away, a force leaving their bodies like a departing spirit.
As the chant grew more fervent, an eerie wind stirred within the confines of the loft, swirling with an unsettling presence. Dust particles danced in the air, accompanied by the gentle rustle of leaves caught in the soft tempest.
With each passing moment, she could feel the energy pulsating within her, merging with the remnants of power extracted from the immobilized men. It coursed through her veins like a volatile current, a potent fusion of their essence intertwining with her own. It was a delicate balance, a dance on the precipice of potential darkness.
Drawing upon the depths of her innermost darkness, Michelle summoned every ounce of control she possessed. With steadfast focus, she sought to wield Expression, tapping into the magic within her being. The energy crackled around her; its intensity mirrored in her resolute chanting.
In that moment, she became a conduit, channeling the converging powers into a singular purpose. Her incantation became more fervent, her voice rising above the howling wind as she sought to harness the primal forces at her command. Sweat trickled down her brow, her body trembling with the weight of the conjured energy.
With each measured breath, Michelle endeavored to wield the Expression with precision, mindful of the untamed potential it held.
With her reservoir of gathered energy pulsating within her, Michelle's attention turned towards Cora, her composure unwavering as she directed her focus and intent. With unwavering determination, she channeled the amassed power, honing it into a concentrated stream that surged towards Cora's body.
Every ounce of mental strength and concentration was poured into this crucial moment. Michelle could feel the surge of energy coursing through her, resonating with the very fabric of the sealing magic encasing Cora. In her mind's eye, she could almost visualize the intricate web of crystalline enchantments shattering like fragile glass.
It was a symphony of raw magic and focused intent, as she broke through each layer of the sealing magic, unraveling it piece by piece. The air crackled with an electric energy, the atmosphere charged with the intensity of the moment.
As the final barrier crumbled under the weight of Michelle's unwavering assault, a surge of liberation pulsed through the room. The once-impervious seal shattered, and a palpable sense of release permeated the air. It was as if a crystal cocoon had shattered, freeing Cora from her metaphysical prison.
But Michelle's task was not yet complete. With a commanding wave of her hand, she dispelled the ritualistic salt circle that had bound the men, breaking the barrier that held them captive. In an instant, the circle dissolved, releasing its grip on the immobilized trio.
Gasping for air, the men stumbled and clawed their way back to their feet, their chests heaving as they fought to regain their breath. Disoriented but free from their temporary confinement, they cast bewildered glances towards Michelle, awe and gratitude intermingling in their eyes.
Without wasting time, Michelle approached Cora's body, changing her chanting, and leaving the Expression behind, using now her signature magic, now to take all the mistletoe from her system, "Les lames colligo. Ad me gluttuli."
After five more times, Cora's body started to convulse with increasing intensity, each spasm more violent than the last. Tremors coursed through her frame, causing her limbs to jerk uncontrollably. As the spasms intensified, a deep cough erupted from within her, erupting into a fit of hacking and wheezing.
With each cough, a cloud of dust left Cora's lips, mingling with the air and filling the room with a choking haze. Her body, weakened and trembling, finally succumbed to the strain. Collapsing to one side, she expelled the remnants of the mistletoe that had been infused within her.
The expelled mistletoe, a symbol of the malevolent forces that had once consumed her, lay scattered on the ground. The air hung heavy with a mix of exhaustion, relief, and the lingering scent of magic and raw power.
In the midst of this tumultuous scene, Michelle, utterly drained from the ordeal, felt her strength wane. Her legs gave way beneath her, threatening to send her crashing to the ground. However, just as she teetered on the precipice of collapse, a reassuring presence enveloped her. David, ever watchful and steadfast, swiftly moved to her side, encircling her in a protective embrace.
His arms provided a steadying force, cradling Michelle against his sturdy chest. The warmth of his embrace and the beat of his heart served as an anchor, grounding her in the present moment. In that tender embrace, Michelle found solace and strength, her weary body finding respite in the arms of her steadfast father.
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－ ３９４５ ｗｏｒｄｓ －
Author's note
Question, do you guys enjoy reading from so many angles? I mean, the fast change of scenes is the reason I prefer 3rd person to different POVs.
Also, I want to expose much of the family, Alistair is obviously our main guy, but I also want to give relevance to the others rather than just make them means to ends in the plot. Do you guys like that?
- 𝒿. 𝒻. 𝒸. 🐼💜