iv. WITH NO APOLOGIES
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"WE'RE JUST GOING to wait here for Scott," Stiles instructed, leading the young Derek and Carter into the McCall residence. They needed to keep an eye on Derek while Scott went to talk to Peter; wanting to keep him as far away from Kate Argent as physically possible. The sooner they got Derek back to his regular self, the better off they would all be. "We're going to sit quietly. And we're not going to call or talk to anyone."
"Do I talk to you?" Derek asked, following after Stiles as they walked into the dimly lit living room.
"No."
"Good."
"Fine," Derek replied, before pointing a finger over at Carter. "Can I talk to her?"
"Yes, if that would make you happy," Stiles muttered, flailing his arms around in his usual Stiles manner.
"Good," Derek said as they continued toward the kitchen. "I actually like her — she's nice." He then noticed two figures standing in the dining room. "Who's going to talk to them?"
Carter and Stiles whipped around at that, their eyes widening at the sight of Agent McCall standing in the center of the dining room with a bag filled with Chinese take-out in his arms. Raeven had been trailing behind the agent, arms crossed over her chest. She was obviously annoyed with entire situation. She sent Carter a dark look, clearly stating that she had been waiting for her to arrive for longer than she would've liked. Carter sighed and shook her head, knowing that her doppelgänger had even less patience than she did.
"Oh!" Stiles yelped in shock, his hand raised up as he grimaced. "Are you getting taller?"
"Guys, I've been waiting here for, like, forever — why didn't you call me?" Raeven groaned, moving to standing in front of the small group. Her dark eyes were searching Carter's, begging for an explanation as to why Derek was there.
"I know, I know, we just go so caught up. I'll fill you in on everything later, okay?" Carter stressed. She knew that Raeven had the worst timing in the world, she was just hoping that she wouldn't say anything that gave her away to Derek.
"So, are you guys twins?" Derek asked in confusion, eyeing the identical girls suspiciously.
Raeven pursed her lips. "Uh — yeah, sure...identical twins. I'm Raeven, nice to meet you."
"What are you guys doing here?" Agent McCall asked suddenly, making his presence known again.
Derek, being Derek, completely ignored Stiles' rule about not talking to anyone but Carter and said: "Waiting for Scott."
"Yeah, so am I," McCall announced. Carter's eyes widened even further. Of course Scott and Agent McCall would be having a "father and son bonding night" on the same night they would be trying to hide Derek from Kate. But, at the same time she couldn't blame him for not remembering; it had been crazy two days. "We're supposed to have dinner. I brought extra — you guys hungry?"
"Yeah," Derek beamed while Stiles interjected: "No, no, we're not hungry."
"No, I'm starving," Derek corrected, shooting Stiles a pointed glare.
"None of us are hungry."
"Okay, well, if you guys aren't hungry, your friend can still eat with us." McCall said, seeming slightly confused with the entire situation. He didn't quite understand why Derek would say he was hungry and then have Stiles immediately shoot down the idea. "What's your name?"
"Der—"
"Miguel," Stiles shouted, catching everyone off guard. "He's uh — my cousin Miguel." He continued, clapping his hand on Derek's back in an attempt to showcase some sort of awkward affection. He pulled the teenage boy into his side, lightly patting his shoulder. "From Mexico, so..."
Carter let her head drop into her hands. She was shaking her head in disbelief, not be able to believe how horribly wrong the entire conversation was going. That night had taken a turn for the worse. They thought it was just going to be a simple plan; take Derek back to Scott's house — lock him in Scott's room — guard him and make sure he doesn't go anywhere — wait for Scott to come home. Simple. But now they had to deal with Agent McCall.
Derek turned to glance at Carter and mouthed: "What is going on?" and the brunette just shrugged, not really knowing the answer to the question herself.
Before one of the teenagers had the chance to speak again, Agent McCall delved into an extensive conversation with "Miguel" — except for it was in Spanish. Freakin' Spanish. Carter's head pounded, turning to face her brother. Well, they were screwed. Unless Derek could magically pull knowing how to speak Spanish right out of his ass. Which was highly unlikely.
Stiles' face fell, seeming to be thinking the same thing as Carter. "Oh, my God."
Derek opened his mouth and nothing but a response in Spanish came out. Out of the rest of them, Carter was the one who was most surprised by the revelation. Derek was her own brother and she didn't know he knew how to speak Spanish. She didn't even want to know what they were talking about, she was just relieved that it happened. Their plan, nonetheless, was going to blow up in their faces — well, at least Derek did something right.
"Fantastic," McCall replied, smiling down at the boy. "Egg roll?"
Derek gave the man a toothy grin, "Hell, yeah."
Agent McCall turned and set the bag down on the table. When he opened the bag, the entire roomed was immediately filled with its aroma. As it reached Carter's nose she found herself clamping a hand over her mouth. The foreign-food smell was revolting. At the same time, a sudden pain twisted in her stomach, almost like the aftershock of catching a punch in the gut. And something she hadn't felt in a long time coursed through her — the extreme heat singed her muscles — it hadn't been as intense as it could've been, but it was hot enough to make her shake. She quickly turned away from them, making her way up the stairs as her vision clouded. She stumbled on the last step before crashing into the bathroom.
Once she had entered and closed the door an intense surge of nausea settled in her stomach. Quickly, she rushed over to the toilet as bile rose up her throat. Someone had grabbed her hair a second later, keeping it out of her face while more and more gasps escaped her mouth. She couldn't see anything, only darkness as she continued to throw up. When her eyes finally opened, did she realize that it hadn't been food she was hacking up, but blood. The porcelain in front of her was literally covered in blood.
Carter spat the last of the metallic taste in the bowl before looking back to find out who had been the one to grab her hair. She couldn't say that she was surprised to see that it was Stiles, and he caught sight of the crimson lining her lips and chin. His face contorted in worry, moving closer to her and wiping off the blood.
"Car, what happened?"
Carter glanced up toward Stiles, chest heaving as her stomach continued to churn. "I — I have no idea. I was fine until...until that smell. I haven't had something like this happen since Jennifer."
"You've been having these strange occurrences with your abilities since you got back. Tell me what's going on," Stiles urged. "I want to know what's wrong with you so that I can help."
"Raeven and I were in Washington..." Carter trailed off, pulling away to look with tear-filled eyes at his anxious angel's face, dim in the pale lighting of the bathroom.
"And?" he finally prompted.
She blinked the tears out of her eyes, torn. "Oh, Stiles..."
"Tell me, Carter," he pleased, eyes wild with worry at the pain in her voice.
But she couldn't. Instead she clutched her arms around his neck and locked her mouth with his feverishly. It wasn't desire at all — it was need, acute to the point of pain. His response was instant but quickly followed by his rebuff. He struggled with her as gently as he could in his surprise, holding her away, grasping her shoulders.
"No, Carter," Stiles insisted, looking at her as if he was worried that she'd flipped a switch.
Her arms dropped, defeated. She was trying to veer off the topic of what happened to her while she was gone. She wasn't surprised that these things were happening to her — she knew the consequences of what she did. But she didn't want anyone to know, especially Stiles. So, to deter the situation, she brought up the only thing she could think of.
"What's going on with you and Malia?"
He stared at her with confused, anguished eyes.
"What do you mean "What's going on with me and Malia?"" Stiles repeated, a line appeared between his eyebrows.
Carter inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, thanking God that the attempt at a subject change had worked. "You know exactly what I mean. She obviously has feelings for you, and I know that she's been sneaking into your bedroom at night."
"Oh," Stiles said. His eyes widened, and then he blinked. "That doesn't mean anything."
"It means everything! Come on, Stiles, you let her sleep in the same bed as you." Carter said, head pounding with the beat of her heart. "And with...whatever's going on between you and I, how am I supposed to feel about that? About her hanging all over you? I mean, did you see the way she was treating me in Mexico? It was like she had to prove to you that she was better than me."
She stared at his face, searching for any signs of the anger or disgust she feared. He gazed back at her evenly, his expression blank.
"Yeah, I noticed."
"And yet you did and said nothing."
"You weren't any better, Carter!" Stiles roared, surprising himself. A whimper got caught in the back of her throat as she took a step back. Her Pheanix coiled within itself, licking its wounds. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes despite all her efforts to stop them — heart lurched up into her throat. Heart pounding between her ears as a warm trail of blood flowed out of her nose. "Car, I'm sor—"
"No, Stiles. Just — no," Carter mumbled, stepping away from him when he tried to reach out and wipe off the blood. She didn't even care that there was blood on her face; the crimson settling between her lips as she thought of what to say. "You don't know what it's like to be around you — being what I am! When you and I are together, every single atom in my body is telling me that this is the right thing, that we're a perfect fit. And that kind of feeling...it changes your whole life."
Stiles took a cautious step forward, getting close enough to grab her shoulders. "I don't understand. What do you mean "being what you are". Carter, what are you talking about?"
"Stiles," Carter managed to choke out. "You're my Ideale Altro. When translated to English it means: fated other. We are literally fated to be together." She tried to swallow. It didn't work. "That's why I was acting the way I was with Malia in Mexico. I just couldn't handle the thought of you being with someone else. A life for a Pheanix without its Ideale Altro, isn't a life at all. But, I understand if...if you would rather be with Malia."
He took another step forward, cupping her face with both hands. He pulled her closer, their faces mere inches apart. She was practically drowning in the cinnamon smell of his breath — and he didn't care about the blood on her lips. "Carter, I've had feelings for since the day you walked into Mr. Harris' class sophomore year. I've never wanted to be with anyone else. I just didn't say anything because I saw how happy you and Scott were. But that day in Eichen House, I don't know what happened but I just couldn't help myself. And there is this forest fire in your chest that I'll never have the water to put out — so, I'm just going to hold your hand and burn with you."
Part of her head was sorting through his words and memories she shared with him, while the other half — the part that controlled the ability to move even the smallest muscles — was stunned beyond the capacity for normal operations. She couldn't move her lips to speak, though she wanted to tell Stiles how relieved she was to hear that. She wanted to reach out, to touch him, but her body wouldn't follow instructions. She could only stared at the beautiful eyes in front of her, his fingers gingerly pressed against her warm cheeks.
And then, like a lightning strike, everything came alive when his lips smashed against hers. In the same moment, there was a pounding on the door, hard and demanding. Neither of them moved. She tried to tune it out while pressing her fingers into his chest, enjoying the moment.
The banging on the door continued. She wished that whoever it was would just go away — they were having a moment. Possibly one of the biggest moments of their lives.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Finally, the annoyance broke everything else. Carter pulled away from Stiles, lips swollen, and moved to yank the door open. Standing on the other side of the door was an angry looking Derek, his nostrils were flared and his muscles tense. He reached out a grabbed the back of Stiles' neck, dragging him out of the bathroom while going on about how they lied to him about his family.
Agent McCall had ended up telling Derek that the majority of his family perished in the fire. Which was why Stiles was now being pressed against the wall, squirming under Derek's firm hold. They were now in Scott's bedroom, Carter quickly stepping in and using her own strength to pull the boy off Stiles.
"Okay, I didn't lie," Stiles stated. "I omitted certain truths — vital truths now that I'm thinking about it."
Finally calming down enough, Carter pushed herself away from Derek. He was clearly angry with the two of them, rightfully so though. Even Carter now understood why lying to him was better than telling the truth. She knew how much the fire had changed Derek — and herself as well — she didn't want to relive that with him.
"I don't want to talk to you," Derek snapped. "Either of you. I want to talk to the Alpha — I'll talk to Scott."
"Okay," Stiles replied quickly, holding his hands up in defense. "I'm going to go get him," he tugged the door open and stood in the doorway. "My phone's downstairs and I'm gonna call him real quick. You stay here. Just don't move, okay? Stay with...her. I'll send Raeven up as well."
With that being said, Stiles disappeared down the hallway. Leaving Derek and Carter all alone in Scott's room in an awkward silence — that had been the first time that either of them were alone together. It was strange. Seeing as though he refused to even look at her. She struggled to rub the blood off her face without a mirror, trying to distract herself in any way.
"Derek, we didn't have a choice. None of us wanted to see you go through that much pain without actually remembering what happened." Carter said, watching as Derek turned away from her. That was just like Derek. Whenever they would argue, he was also turn his back to her like a child. Some things never change, she thought.
"Well, that wasn't your choice to make — it wasn't any of yours." Derek shot back. "All I wanted to know was where my family was, and you all lied to me. And now I'm left with even more questions than answers."
Before Carter even had the chance to come up with something else to say, the door leading into the room creaked open. Carter's back stiffened, suddenly becoming extremely alert. She knew that it wasn't Stiles opening the door, she would've recognized the scent — this, this was something she'd never smelt before. A person she also, had never met.
Kate Argent.
A sickening amount of recognition appeared on Derek's face. Carter still couldn't get over the fact that the two of them used to sleep together. Stiles and Raeven were downstairs, she could scream — but, she also wasn't the type of girl to scream when she needed help.
Derek's eyebrows furrowed, "Kate?"
Carter felt her fangs slip through her gums. Instinctively, she placed herself in between her brother and the psychotic bitch in front of them. She needed to keep her as far away from Derek as possible.
"Hey, handsome," Kate coaxed. "And you must be Carter," she purred, Derek's eyes widening at the name. "The last time I saw you, you were still bitin' ankles. Hmm, someone grew up in all the right places. I've heard a lot about you — the Pheanix turned werewolf. I just can't believe that everyone is making such a fuss about Carter Hale."
"You need to leave — now." Carter growled, all of her pent up rage toward the woman rushing to the surface. She had murdered almost her entire family. That alone was enough for her to want to reach out a slice her throat...again.
"I don't think so, Little Redbird," Kate taunted. The name had more meaning behind it than Kate realized, not knowing that it was the exact same thing Aiden used to call her before he died. Low growls were coming from the depths of Carter's chest, eyes flashing. "I'm gonna need Derek to come with me."
Two slow and agonizing seconds past before the two supernatural creatures lunged for each other. Carter, being the superior one out of the duo, was able to pin Kate against the wall with eyes. Her scarlet eyes clashing against Kate's emerald green ones. The grip she had on Kate's neck loosened when she felt four claws dig into her abdomen. Carter released a pained cry, stepping backward before Kate grabbed the back of her neck and rammed her head into the wall.
The harsh impact caused a huge dent to be formed in the drywall. Pieces of sheetrock fell in Carter's eyes as she slid down the length of the wall, groans escaping her lips. Blood poured out of the wounds on her stomach and the one on her head. She could barely make out the image of Kate forcing Derek out of the window.
Her head was pounding even worse now, but she knew that the night was only going to get worse.
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It had taken Carter's body mere seconds to heal itself, which had been strange. She'd never seen anyone heal that fast; not her, not Derek, not Scott, not Peter...not anyone. In the back of her mind she knew that it had something to do with what she did that night, but she refused to believe it.
Carter hadn't even bothered changing her clothes before they left Scott's house after receiving a photo from Lydia of a mangled gas station attendant. Kate didn't have control. They had figured out that Kate wanted to learn how to control the shift, she needed to Derek to get into the Hale vault in order to get Triskelion pendant. Something that Talia and used on Laura to control her shift.
She needed Derek to get inside the vault because only a Hale's claws could open it — and she needed a Derek that trusted her enough to willingly open it. Everything was coming together.
And that was Lydia, Stiles, Raeven, and Carter were rushing to the high school. One of the main Hale vaults was beneath the school, being there way before the construction of Beacon Hills High had even started. The four of them ran through the familiar courtyard — hearing the distinct sounds of growls and cries, sounds of fighting.
Carter sniffed the air, a sickening feeling settled in her bones, "Berserkers."
As she had spoken, they halted. Stiles adjusted his hold on the aluminum bat, Lydia rolled her eyes at the boy. "You seriously need to find something better than a baseball bat."
Stiles glanced down at the bat, shrugging his shoulders before following after the three supernatural females who had already taken off in the direction of the school. They trailed after Carter, knowing that the girl knew where she was going. The high school sign was turned at an odd angle. Carter sighed, knowing that it had already been opened.
Off to the side of it was a gaping hole, a set of stairs leading to the under ground of the school. The vault — it was a place she hadn't been a very long time. Thick wisps of smoke lingered in the air around it, the four sharing wary looks before descending the staircase. When they finally reached the bottom, Peter was crouched in front of a safe, practically twitching as he stared at the empty safe.
"It was never..." Peter mumbled to himself. "It was never about the Triskelion. They — They took it while I was blinded."
"Took what?"
Slowly, Peter rose to his feet. "Bonds," he turned to face them. A wide grin appeared on Carter's face, almost enjoying the fact that her uncle had been robbed. "Bearer bonds and they took them all."
"Bearer bonds?" Stiles repeated, looking just as amused as Carter. "Hold on, hold on. Are you saying that you got robbed?"
"This was a heist," Peter snapped. "Somebody planned this."
"Did they take it all?" Carter asked, already knowing how much was in the safe.
"How much did they take?" Raeven questioned.
"One-hundred and ninety-seven."
"Thousand?" Stiles inquired, shock laced in his tone.
"Million."
And in that moment, they were completely oblivious. Oblivious to the fact that one-hundred and ninety-seven million dollars would be put toward their destruction.
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