CHAPTER TWENTY: Sins of The Family
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"Did you get the picture?"
"Yeah, I did, and it looks just like the drawing."
Derek grabbed hold of Stiles' wrist, yanking the phone closer to see the picture Scott had sent through to them of Allison's necklace. It was no doubt identical to the drawing. But that wasn't exactly helpful. They needed something more. "Hey, is there something on the back of it? There's gotta be something. An inscription. An opening. Something."
"No, no, the thing's flat. And, no, it doesn't open. There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing. And where are you guys? You're supposed to be here! You're first line, Stiles! You're not gonna play if you're not here to start! And Jay, you already know Coach is going to kill us all if you don't show up. He's going to kill us, and then he's just gonna go kill himself too!"
On cue, Coach's voice suddenly droned on through the speaker as the man cuffed the back of Scott's head. "Where the hell is Hale? Is he with that Bilinski kid? I knew it!"
Stiles blushed, and Jay furrowed an eyebrow. "Knew what?"
"Nothing!" Stiles reassured Jay before turning back to the phone. He yanked his wrist out of Derek's grasp to hold the device back to his ear. "Listen, just, If you see my Dad, tell him... tell him I'll be there. Just a little bit late, okay? Alright, thanks." He hung up the phone with a pained sigh, staring at the small digital radio clock.
"You're not going to make it," Derek commented unhelpfully. Jay scowled and reached forward to smack the back of his head. They were both right there when the Sheriff was rambling about how proud he was of Stiles and how much he couldn't wait to see his son play. There was no need to rub salt in the wound.
Besides, Derek should know full well how it felt to miss a sports game he really wanted to go to. He missed out on a few because of the full moon back in the day and it was the only time Jay could really remember before the fire of Derek's teenage meltdowns.
Stiles immediately answered, unphased. "I know."
"And, you didn't tell him about his mom either."
Derek dodged the second swipe of Jay's hand to the back of his head.
"Not till we find out the truth," Stiles stated, shaking his head. It was more important to him to find out the truth than it was to play in the lacrosse game. Even if his dad would be disappointed, he couldn't just sit back while the woman who was practically a second mother to him was accused of being a killer.
Still, even knowing this, Jay sat forward. "Me and Derek can handle it. You can still make it to the game if you leave now."
But Stiles shook his head, firm in his decision. "No. I need to find out."
There was a loud buzzing that interrupted them and Jay reached into his pocket for his ringing phone to see Allison's name flashing across the screen. She was calling him because apparently, he'd missed over fifty messages from her in the past hour.
He slapped the device down, his eyes immediately going to Derek to check if he saw it. "Uh, I'll be right back." He muttered, ignoring the suspicious narrow of Derek's eyes and the loud strangled yelps from Stiles as he climbed over the boy to yank open the driver's door to get outside.
He slammed it back shut before Stiles could shout at him, jogging his way hopefully far enough that Derek wouldn't be able to hear even if such a hope was impossible.
He wouldn't have answered Allison's call, especially not in front of Derek, but the amount of texts he'd missed was mildly concerning. What if something happened? What if Scott did something again and lost control in the short one minute after their phone call?
Jay clicked the answer button and tried to ignore the heavy weight of Stiles and Derek's eyes on him. He felt like a bug pinned on its back, and if he listened in he could hear Stiles loudly asking Derek to repeat everything he could hear to him as well as the only human without super-hearing.
"Hey, now is kind of a bad time, Allison. Can I call you later—"
"Jay?" Allison mumbled back, her tone betraying how nervous and confused she was.
Jay straightened up, his eyebrows furrowing, "What's wrong?"
"I don't know. My aunt Kate—she's been... she's been acting strange lately. She keeps asking me questions about you and, at first, I just thought she was curious since you're my new friend in a new town. But I just... I don't know. I'm starting to feel weird."
Well, fuck. Jay glanced over at the jeep and the name 'Kate' seemed to have set off an alarm for Derek who was doing nothing to hide the fact that he was eavesdropping. His face had shuttered into an expression Jay'd never seen before. A mix of familiar rage and... fear? No, that couldn't be right. Jay pivoted on his heels, kicking a small pebble as he gathered himself to speak to Allison and find out if he needed to be even more wary than he already was about her nutcase of an aunt. "I'm sure it's nothing. What did she ask about me?"
"That's the thing. She asked about you and then she kept asking about your brother. I think she's just worried after that night at school and, I'm not going to lie, I've had my own questions, but I know you're really going through a lot right now after everything and I didn't want to add on to it all." Allison let out a sigh and her voice lowered into a kind whisper. "I'm feeling really worried, is all. My aunt really isn't helping much with her questions."
Jay rubbed at his temple feeling both guilty but also irritated. Of course, Allison would be curious after everything and, of course, her batshit insane aunt was trying to needle her way into his business. Allison would be the Argent exception for him, but he'd rather die than risk her telling her aunt anything. He could only last so long on the outskirts of the Argent's radar with Derek running around as a fugitive.
He let out a tired sigh and looked down at the gravel. "Allison, I'm sorry, but can we talk about this tomorrow? I'm sort of busy right now."
I have to go visit my vegetable uncle and figure out if Scott's mother is the raging asshole alpha.
There was a pause on the line before Allison sighed as well. The prompt dismissal was loud and clear, Jay wouldn't be saying anything about the matter and she shouldn't expect him to. Although she wanted to press more, Allison just accepted it. "I guess that means you're not coming to the game then. I was hoping my aunt could just meet you and get over herself."
"That's too bad. Maybe next time." Jay lied with clenched teeth. He didn't wait any longer for Allison to prolong the conversation and just hung up himself, sliding his phone back into his pocket and making the walk of shame back over to the jeep.
Derek was, you guessed it, livid.
"Allison Argent?" He spat as soon as Jay swung open Stiles' cad door. "You're friends with Allison Argent. The one person I told you to never talk to. Argent!"
"Saying it three times isn't gonna change anything." Jay rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of himself. Meanwhile, Stiles was just sitting there, stuck in the middle and glancing between the two brothers as if watching a tennis match. He didn't seem to be getting the message to leave, so Jay reached over his lap and unclipped the seatbelt for him, ignoring the way Stiles' breath seemed to stutter and choke in favour of sending Derek dark a side-eye. "And by the way, you don't get to be mad at me for keeping secrets when all you've ever done is lie to me. We're on a reset, remember? I can't get mad at you, and you can't get mad at me."
Derek clenched his jaw so hard it looked as if the muscle was going to pop. His eyes had taken on their familiar wrathful hardness, and Jay could hear his teeth grinding and the bones in his fist tightening into hard fists. But after a long tense moment, Derek simply looked away.
A dismissal.
Jay took it.
Stiles awkwardly still sat there.
"By the way, one more thing," Derek announced, turning to look between the two. His irritation, he decided, would need to be taken out on someone. If not Jay, then there was one other person there to use as a stress ball.
Stiles blinked. "Yea—"
Without any warning, Stiles' head was slammed hard against the steering wheel. He jolted upright, a hand instantly flying to his forehead where a stinging pain was settling.
Jay stepped forward to reach over and maybe throttle his brother for it, leaning once again over Stiles' lap in order to reach over the console to the passenger side.
Stiles was soft. Human. Derek couldn't be slamming his head into a steering wheel all willy-nilly!
"God, what the hell was that for?" Stiles cried out, hissing in pain. He didn't really have much time to linger on the stinging though because suddenly the two Hale brothers were scrapping at each other over him in a rough sissy fight that was all in all quite pathetic, actually. But all pain in his forehead was forgotten when all he could suddenly focus on was the press of Jay's right shoulder to his chest as the blond reached out to strangle Derek, along with the equal searing warmth of his forearm laid perched across his thigh to steady himself as he fought his brother. It took Stiles getting an elbow to the ribs during it all to finally let out a gasp, "Can you—" his voice came out embarrassingly high pitched and he suddenly glad for the position they were in with Jay's vision solely laser focused on Derek. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Can you guys not! And what the hell was that for!?"
"You know what that was for!" Derek pointed an accusing finger over at Stiles. He had to yank his hand back when Jay tried to bite it, though. He yanked it back and then smacked Jay's reaching arms away to grab hold of his shoulder to shove him into Stiles, who practically fell out of the driver's side in an attempt to get out and away from the chaos. "Both of you, go. Go!"
Jay scrambled out of the car with Derek's incessant pushing, somehow hitting his head on the top on his way out and cussing up a storm when the door slammed shut behind him.
He stumbled after Stiles, throwing up a middle finger over his shoulder, a gesture that Derek returned.
"You know, Derek's a lot more childish when he's around you. Kind of negates the whole 'dark and dangerous' thing he's got going with the leather." Stiles commented, walking beside Jay as they made their way to the doors of the long-term care facility. The entire atmosphere of the place changed once they stepped through, the walls feeling suddenly more sterile and the lighting looking dim. It was never a warm place in the first place, but the last time Jay visited, it felt more lonely than abandoned like it did now.
"What can I say, I bring out the worst in my brother," Jay told Stiles, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them warm. They stopped at the reception desk, but the lady who'd guided Jay around last time wasn't present nor was Melissa whose message had been traced to that very computer. In fact, when they looked around, not a single person seemed to be there. No visitors, no staff, no patients. The lobby was completely barren as if they just stepped into an episode of an apocalyptic show.
Jay half expected zombies to start popping out of nowhere as a jumpscare.
"I'm calling Derek." Stiles sighed, digging around his pocket for his phone. He waited in front of the desk and tapped the toe of his sneaker impatiently as he waited for Derek to answer. "I feel like this is a bad idea. I don't know why, but I just feel like something's gonna go wrong." When the line connected, he turned to stare at the staff door. "Derek? We can't find her—or anyone, for that matter.
Derek sighed irritably into the receiver like it was their fault the staff were being negligent. "Look, ask for Jennifer. She's been looking after my uncle."
"Hm," Jay hummed, moving past the desk and stepping into the hallway. "Come on, I know where Peter's room is. Maybe she's in there giving him a sponge bath or something, the poor woman." He didn't wait for Stiles, already making his way to the room while Stiles ran to catch up with him.
"Jay, wait. Maybe we should—God, what is it with you Hale's and not listening?"
But Jay had already reached the door and, without the same hesitation he had last time visiting his uncle, he threw open the door with a grand flourish. "Peter, I brought one of the nerds I talked to you about—"
He stopped himself, finding only an empty wheelchair abandoned near the too-tidy bed.
"He's not here," Stiles said into the phone, looking around the room like Peter would perhaps be hidden in a corner or something.
"What?"
Jay exchanged a look with Stiles and grabbed the phone to speak with Derek. "I don't know, Derek. Like I said, maybe they took him to take a bath or something. Peter isn't here."
He ran a hand through his hair, feeling bad about dragging Stiles all the way on a wild goose chase when he should be at the school playing his very first lacrosse game with his Dad cheering him on in the stands. Melissa wasn't there, Jennifer wasn't there, Peter wasn't there. Nobody was there. Once again they were at a dead end. Stuck with a trail that had long since gone cold.
When the phone was still silent, he moved his thumb to hang up. But just before he could click the button, Derek's frantic voice sounded out.
"Jay, get out of there right now! Now! Go! It's Peter, he's the alpha! You two get out!" Derek shouted from the speaker, and all of a sudden, the missing pieces snapped together and the phone dropped from Jay's trembling hands. It clattered to the floor while his chest heaved, his breath coming out in sharp gasps and his hands shaking so much that Stiles, who hadn't heard Derek, reached out to grab them.
"Woah, what happened? What's wrong?" He asked, grabbing both of Jay's hands to hold with one of his while he reached down to pick up his phone.
But Jay jerked him back up, pushing him behind when all of the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He whipped around to find Peter leaning on the wall next to them, a sadistic smirk on his twisted, scarred face. His eyes focused on Jay's before flitting over to Stiles behind his shoulder, amusement colouring his tone. "You must be Stiles."
Stiles furrowed an eyebrow, fumbling to shove his phone into his pocket while Jay tried to herd him away.
"Stiles, go." Jay's voice was like a whip. His eyes stayed focused on his uncle, tracking his movements carefully while he pushed Stiles back toward the exit.
Stiles didn't answer him. He was still holding onto his hands, making it hard for Jay to push him back when Stiles kept trying to tug him along with him.
Stiles glanced around, however, and found a redhead nurse blocking the exit.
"What are you doing here?" She asked with a dark frown. "Visiting hours are over."
"You—and him—Jay's unc—oh, and he's the—oh my god, we're going to die." Stiles stuttered, his eyes bulging out of his head.
"Well, you're going to die. James, however..." Peter trailed off, giving a thoughtful glance toward Jay who couldn't quite keep the hurt off his face while he stared at his uncle. His uncle, who was the alpha. His uncle, who'd been right under their noses the entire month. His uncle, who'd become the very monster every werewolf feared of becoming and was trained not to.
"You killed Laura," Jay breathed out, his chest constricting and his ribs feeling like they were going to fall apart with how hard his heart was slamming against them. It was unforgivable if it was any other person, but it was absolutely heinous and downright despicable coming from their own flesh and blood uncle. The man who watched them grow up and would babysit regularly. The man who Jay always said was his favourite growing up, the type of older role model he could only ever dream of becoming one day. "You actually—"
There was a loud popping sound, and Stiles turned around to see Derek standing there with Jennifer now unconscious on the tile floor. Jay didn't turn around though, his eyes stuck on Peter who clicked his tongue. "That's not nice, Derek. She's my nurse."
"She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people." Derek spat back, his entire demeanour was as cold as ice but as poised as a lethal blade. His eyes landed on the back of Jay's head, but when the boy wouldn't turn to face him, he looked to Stiles. "Get him out of the way."
"But he's—" A werewolf. Stiles stopped the remark before he could finish. Jay was a werewolf; no amount of pulling or pushing would ever restrain the boy. But although he was strong, he was also still frozen in place from shock and what had to be world stopping betrayal. His spine was rigid as a board and there didn't seem to be even the slightest movement to betray the fact that Jay was even breathing.
Derek's mouth opened, revealing sharpened fangs, and Stiles didn't need to be told twice. He wrapped his arms around Jay's torso and threw them both to the ground when Peter stepped closer. "You think I killed Laura on purpose? One of my own family?"
The words from Peter seemed to reboot Jay into fight mode, the sound of his older sister's name on the tongue of the beast who destroyed her making his ears ring and his vision slide into furious anger, visibly shifting to the bold yellow that only ever meant danger. Stiles' grip around his torso was nothing to him. Jay twisted out of the hold in a matter of seconds and reared his head up at Peter, growling deep in his throat lower than he'd ever been able to before.
"You should have burned!" He hissed, and unbridled rage crossed Peter's expression. The amusement had dropped and he sneered down at his nephew.
Peter went to lunge at him for the comment, but Derek launched himself into the way, unwilling to let his younger brother risk his life. They finally had the alpha he'd been obsessed with finding for the past month, but at what cost? He wasn't going to watch his brother die the same way his sister did.
But Peter was just too fast. As if he predicted Derek's movement before it even happened; he swung out and caught him by the throat, throwing him into the air and onto the ground.
Jay swiped out with his claws, but Peter wasn't an alpha for nothing. Every movement of his was quick and calculated with more power than either beta could manage. With one hand to Derek's throat and one hand wrenching Jay's throat in a choking hold, he dragged them both down the hallway floor.
Stiles tried to grab hold of Jay's foot to pull him out of the way, but it was no use. There was nothing he could do but watch as Peter yanked his two nephews away with a grip so tight on their throats that Stiles was for a moment scared that the man would just tear through and kill them then and there.
"My mind, my personality, were literally burned out of me, James. Do you know what it's like? I was being driven by pure instinct," Peter explained with a harsh edge to every word, tightening his grip around Jay's throat as punishment for mouthing off while he let Derek fall to the floor.
Jay was the weakness between the two brothers. Not necessarily in the level of strength or skill, but in the way that anything that happened to him would affect Derek the same amount as if it were happening to both of them instead. Any pain Jay felt, Derek would have no choice but to react, driven by his own pure instincts to protect his younger brother.
The only pack he had left.
The only person he had left.
Jay's hands came up to claw at the hold on his throat with his nails raking into flesh, but it was no use. Peter didn't register the pain in his arms. He didn't register anything at all.
"You want forgiveness?" Derek asked. Just as expected, Derek had gotten back on his feet in a matter of seconds and just as Peter turned around to sneer at him, Derek sent a hard blow smashing across his jaw and his hold on Jay relaxed enough for the boy to crash back into the floor and gasp in lungfuls of oxygen.
Peter didn't waste any more time on him, though; he turned to Derek and kicked his torso instead. His hits on Derek got rougher and harder.
"I want understanding. Do you have any idea what it was like for me during those years? Slowly healing cell by cell, even more slowly coming back to consciousness. Yes, becoming an alpha pushed me over the plateau in the healing process, I can't help that."
He headbutted Derek back into the wall and the plaster crumbled from the impact of his body. It was taking longer and longer for him to get back into the fight and everyone knew it, and Jay couldn't just sit back and watch it go on.
He didn't care if his lungs felt like they were burning and if he was still lying across the floor. He was scrappy with his fighting and this was no different. He twisted onto his front and grappled Peter's leg to yank him away, his claws tearing through the fabric of the pants and dripping blood onto the tile in a smear of red.
Peter growled and kicked his foot out of the hold, slamming his shoe into Jay's face and breaking his nose with a sickening crack that had blood gushing down. "Stay down you infuriating little mutt. The adults are talking."
"You'll have to kill me." Jay ground out, spitting blood out purposefully just to see the sneer of disgust on his uncle's face when it landed on him instead of the floor. He held on to his ankle unwilling to back down as he swiped his other hand over Peter's leg. Peter's blood dripped, but it seemed like any superficial wounds healed within a matter of seconds compared to the long-lasting damage of scars on his face.
"Don't tempt me, James," Peter growled. He hadn't put any real power in his kick before, but the next one slammed against Jay's jaw hard enough to make his hands let go as he made a sharp cry of pain, falling back. Still, Jay tried to reach out again, hands trembling, and Peter just about had enough, "You never did know when to let go."
"Stop! Don't touch him," Derek spat hastily, blood falling on the floor as he struggled to speak. His fist flew out and landed only once before Peter caught the second punch, stopping mid-kick to Jay in order to defend himself.
Peter twisted Derek's arm back with a delighted grin as Derek let out a loud cry of pain when the bone snapped. "You know, I tried to tell you what was happening. I tried to warn you." He grabbed hold of Derek's jacket and slung him through the glass window. While Derek went crashing through the glass, he turned to look down at his youngest nephew who was blinking up at him.
A small spike of genuine regret made Peter's fists clench.
Laid flat on his back still reeling from the kick to the jaw and the stars exploding in his vision, there was blood slipping out of Jay's nose and the corners of his mouth down the hollows of his cheekbones, running rivers into his blond hair and leaving the lower half of his face a bloody mess.
"You'll understand," Peter said to him solemnly, crouching down with his claws extended. "What grief does to a person. It wasn't like I had a choice. You told me you'd help me survive when you visited me, but this was the only way that I ever could." His hand slipped behind Jay's neck, and he repeated the sentiment once more gravely. "You'll understand."
Then, sharp claws pierced into Jay's neck, and all in an instant, images flashed through his mind. Images that Jay was forced to live again through a different perspective than when he was nine years old clawing outside the door separating him from his parents while weeping. He was going through the same tragic events except this time it was unfolding in the eyes of Peter, trapped inside the basement frantically looking around.
There was a dark room filled with black smoke that was potent even through the memory, curling toward Jay's grandparents as they coughed and screamed. The smoke wrapped around his younger cousins, humans and just children, as his paternal aunt and her husband tried to cover their tiny mouths the best they could go even though they too couldn't breathe. Through the broken window and steel bars, there were two men tossing liquid from five-gallon jugs into the house. They doused the insides, their images blurring as Pater's hands desperately grabbed for the door. Heat singed his skin as he tried to push it open while black roiling smoke covered everything as heartbeats began to splutter into nothing and finally the screaming stopped.
Then, the flashback changed to nurses laying Peter back onto a hospital bed. The view was distorted, the entire right side of Peter's burned face, including the eye, was covered with a bandaid that did nothing to stop the throbbing of unimaginable pain. More pain than Jay's ever experienced before, even if it was all an illusion. From Peter's good eye, he could see light seeping in from the window, the brilliant glow of the full moon feeling like a soothing balm as it worked to heal him under its rays rather than take his control. It was the only night Peter ever got to feel anything other than pain. Then the flashback shifted to a now-unbandaged Peter who sat up in the bed, the moon almost seeming to pull at him, drawing him to his feet. His legs shook underneath him but there was this frantic energy keeping him up. He turned to look at the door where the nurse, Jennifer, stood watching in astonishment.
Next, worse than even the memories of the fire, was the last moment of Laura Hale's life. Jay, forced into the perspective of Peter, was forced to live through the moment as if it were his own memory as Laura, distinguishable by the aching familiar scent and footsteps, walked closer from behind. Her signature beat-up combat boots crushed leaves underneath her as she approached and Jay got to see the last look on her face as she reached out in shock. Laura whispered, "Peter?", only once. Once, and then she stepped closer with joy overwhelming her from having found her uncle healed enough to walk. But, suddenly Jay could feel his mouth changing, the bones and structure shifting as razor-sharp fangs poked through. Jay was Peter, but the flashback was so visceral and so real, that it felt like he was the one lunging forward with no control over himself ripping through Laura's flesh and tasting the sharp metallic iron of her blood flood his mouth and slide down the back of his throat like poison. Like power.
Jay choked on the blood. He was drowning in it. Thick liquid metal coated his tongue as his body convulsed on the ground. He killed her. He killed his sister. He's a monster.
Suddenly, warm hands were touching him. Warm like the ball of feeling that was once in his chest. The feeling of his fickle happiness. They grabbed him by the shoulder, pushing him onto his side as he coughed the poison of blood out.
"Laura," he gasped through the choking. He reached out for the hands instinctively, but they didn't feel smooth and soft like Laura's always was—familiar to him every time she'd press her palm against his forehead or hold his hand when he got scared. The hands steadying him now were calloused against the skin of his neck where they were feeling for a pulse. Larger, but just as gentle.
Jay held on to them.
"It's—it's Stiles. You're... you're going to be okay, Jay. I don't know what he did to you, but it's okay now."
Jay blinked his eyes open. It felt like his entire brain was a scrambled mess as he adjusted back to the white overhead lights of the hospital. He found himself in the recovery position, on his side with Stiles' worried face hovering over him.
Stiles had watched the entire thing happen. He watched as Derek and Jay fought the alpha with bated breath, crouched down behind the receptionist's desk, unable to help them. He knew not to get in the way despite aching to be involved. He wasn't a werewolf. He couldn't help. He couldn't do anything. All he could do was watch as Peter abused his two nephews, kicking Jay's pretty face into a bloody mess as he abandoned the boy on the floor and threw Derek through a window to lay along the broken pieces. Stiles had to sit back and frantically look around for any weapons, finding none since it was a hospital.
He had to watch as Peter inched closer to Jay afterwards, stabbing his claws into his neck and causing what looked to be a seizure.
When Peter slipped past the door, it was only then that his feet seemed to move toward Jay. Stiles moved so fast that he didn't remember moving at all, crashing onto his knees by Jay's side, his hands hovering for a second before he remembered all of the first aid training his dad made him take. He rolled Jay onto his side as blood from his bitten tongue spilled out of his mouth and he put one hand underneath Jay's head, protecting his skull from the unforgiving tile floor.
The second the shaking seized, Stiles rested a hand on Jay's pulse, feeling the butterfly flutter and relaxing. But he jumped a little when Jay suddenly moved to grab his hand, holding on tightly while his other trembling hand came up to rub at his chest, mimicking the same thing he'd been doing unconsciously for the entire day. However, the uncomfortable warmth that was once there had disappeared entirely.
"Laura," Jay had whispered, and Stiles felt his heart break.
Jay missed the warmth inside of him, whatever it was. It disappeared the second Peter's memories invaded his head. It took having it ripped back out of him to realize that the warmth he missed wasn't despair after all. No, despair was the knife that was left behind after the revelation and the nightmares, twisting in his heart and carving it out.
The warmth had actually been the feeling that everything was going to be alright. Of being useful, wanted, belonging, happy.
He missed it, but Stiles felt like the embodiment of that warmth as he twisted his hand to hold onto Jay's fingers in a tight interlock.
"I'm—I'm calling the hospital," Stiles said, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing. He pressed his free hand—the one not clasped tightly with Jay's—to the blond's other one resting overtop of his chest, pushing it aside just—just to make sure there wasn't any hidden injury there that Stiles missed that was making him look so pained.
"We're at the hospital," Jay mumbled, although he let Stiles continue to fret over his chest for a moment to distract him while he lifted his free hand up to his battered face to crack his nose back into place before sitting up.
"Okay, but I think you should get checked out just in case," Stiles droned on, wincing from the sound of the bone snapping into place. "He—you... you just had a seizure! You look terrible!"
"I feel terrible." Jay pushed aside Stiles' groping hand to clutch at his chest again while he used their still interlocked pair as leverage to stand up. "Just found out my uncle is the alpha. He beat the shit out of me. He showed me his version of the fire, forcing me to relive everything all over again. And then, cherry on top, he let me experience the utter joy of killing my older sister. As if I don't already want to go jump off a bridge."
"Don't say that," Stiles shook his head, frowning. The seizure—or whatever it was—was Jay seeing Peter's memories? Reliving them? The idea only made him hold on tighter.
Jay listened for a second, standing still, and then let out an exhausted breath when he couldn't hear the familiar beat of Derek's heart anywhere in the vicinity. "Great, he stole Derek too."
Stiles didn't understand how it took Jay only seconds to snap back into his nonchalant, emotionless facade. After everything, Jay should be upset. He deserved to be upset for once. But instead, he'd defaulted back into nothing.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Stiles asked again, still shaken up himself from seeing Jay so powerless for the first time ever. Even with a messed up leg back during the night school attack, he still managed to take control of the situation and fight.
"I'm never okay." Jay cleared his throat, stepping out of Stiles' grip. "But I'm fine."
Stiles put his foot down. Literally. "You are not—"
"Let's go," Jay cut him off, already walking toward the door. He was moderately healed, and he was acting fine, but the blood still staining his face was a reminder that Stiles hadn't imagined everything.
Jay entertained no other questions of concern as they climbed back into the jeep, but Stiles managed to make sure that at least physically, the boy would be alright. He took Jay back to his house, giving him strict instructions to wash up and take another nap while he went to get Scott at the school to fill him in on everything that happened.
It would give them some space. Jay would be under the false assumption that he was alone so he could process things, and Stiles would be able to take the time driving to figure out what the hell they were gonna do now.
Surprisingly, Jay listened for once in his life.
He climbed out of the jeep on numb legs and let Stiles herd him inside the empty house. Deep down, after experiencing the emotions Peter felt in his flashbacks, the realization set in that he and his uncle weren't as different as he'd wanted them to be.
Revenge was what Jay and Derek had been seeking ever since they stepped foot in Beacon Hills. Revenge was what Peter was seeking through his power trip as alpha. They just went to different lengths to get it, and Peter had no qualms about murdering Laura on his quest to avenge the fire. He had no real regret. It was clear to Jay after tasting the phantom blood and feeling the array of Peter's shifting emotions during the whole ordeal. The greed and thirst for power overwhelmed any guilt when the deed was done and Laura's broken corpse lay beneath him.
There was no going back from something like that, and the scariest fact yet was that Jay understood it to a certain degree.
He felt the power course through his veins. He recognized the satisfaction that plagued him. He tasted the victory as metallic as blood.
Jay, who once dreamed of becoming someone like Peter, now feared the possibility and refused to entertain anything to do with the man.
But while he could automatically default to numbness after seeing the flashbacks of just how much grief and trauma affected Peter, he knew that Derek would be a different story entirely.
Derek liked revenge and action even more than his younger brother ever did. He craved it readily, preferring to feel the hot burn of fury over the ice-cold grip of any other emotion. He felt the warmth of another's blood spill over his soul, and he too felt the indescribable power that coincided with the heavy lead ball of guilt.
In the end, Peter had taken the brother who was most likely to follow him, revenge tainting both of their hearts different shades of black.
In the end, Jay was once again hiding away.
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A/N: 04/26/2024
I broke my own heart writing this chapter....
As we know, Peter technically lost control and became feral with pain and that was the reason he attacked Laura in the first place. I tried to write him in a way where isn't truly just evil. There are many layers. I saw a Reddit post that actually inspired this take which I will link in a inline comment when I wake up later if anyone is interested in reading it. It's basically about how each hero character has a 'dark reflection' of a villain character who is what they could have become if they hadn't made better choices, if they hadn't grown, or if they'd let themselves give in to their darker urges. Stiles' dark reflection was Peter, interestingly enough. They are very much parallels to each other in a way that I can't even try to describe myself in fear of butchering, but it really gave me insight for Peter's character and opened my eyes to him. I will comment the Reddit post here and also post it on my announcement board so it notifies those who follow me whenever I get the chance. It's very fascinating and I'm curious what your guys' thoughts are on it if you care to share them.
Anyway, we see in this actual episode Peter showing Scott his memories, but I thought it would be interesting for Jay to see them as well. To see the motives, the trauma, and the pain that Peter went through. He understands Peter now, but will that change anything? He still killed his sister. Even more tragically, Jay's now been forced to live the experience of killing Laura as well. It was Peter's hands that actually did it, but for Jay, it felt like it was his own. What a terrible burden to have.
Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, vote and comment if you did! Next chapter should be a lighter one but there's something I think you guys will all find entertaining haha.