n// I love badass effy so much jesus christ
song of the chapter: energy by drake
"What the fuck?" I asked myself, reading another one of my students' essays that was clearly written about thirty minutes before it was due, and more than obviously plagiarized to the extreme. "Derek, come look at this."
"What is it?" He asked, looking over my shoulder at my laptop screen.
"Read this passage. This one right here," I said, using my index finger to point at where I wanted him to read. "Someone actually submitted this."
"...Did someone literally just plagiarize the Declaration of Independence?" He asked in astonishment.
"Yup. And read right there as well. That, right there, Hale, is a One Direction lyric."
"Holy crap." He laughed, sipping his coffee and reading the rest of the dreadful paper. "You have to deal with that? Every day?"
"Mhm," I said, cringing at the rest of the assignment, knowing exactly what the student's grade was going to be. "The future of America, everyone."
"Who's the genius that wrote this, anyways?" Hale asked, taking a seat next to me and wrapping an arm around my shoulder, placing a kiss on it.
"Uh, I don't know, actually," I said, scrolling up to look at the name. "You have got to be kidding me."
"What?"
"Take a wild guess at which student of whom would attempt to get away with this."
"...Stiles."
"Ding ding ding, we have a winner!"
I rolled my eyes before giving him a grade on the essay, underlining everything wrong with it. Which was basically the whole thing.
"Finally," I sighed, slamming it down on top of the other pile of graded papers. "I am officially finished with grading."
"Good," Derek smiled, wrapping an arm around my waist and planting a soft kiss on my lips. "Now we can finally have some alone time-"
But Derek's sentence was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing, causing us both to groan out in misery. That is not the type of groaning I was expecting to be doing tonight, by the way.
"Ignore it." I whined as he checked the caller ID.
"It's Scott..." He said, looking over at me.
"So? He's probably asking for help with his math homework."
"Elizabeth, we both know good and well that Scott isn't calling because he needs help with his math homework."
"Well he could be! Tell him that 2+2=4 and he'll be good!"
But Derek just rolled his eyes at my comments and begrudgingly answered the call, snapping into it as soon as he could.
"What?!"
I watched as Derek's face grew from grumpy old man to worried, yet still slightly grumpy, middle aged man. Which caused me to roll my eyes and pout.
"It isn't homework, is it?"
He shook his head at me and I sighed, finishing off the rest of my drink before standing up as he ended the call, walking into my room.
"Where are you going?" Derek asked, calling after me.
"To get changed!" I responded, stripping of my clothes and putting on new ones. "I can't fight off werewolves and assassins in a pencil skirt and heels, you know. That's just impractical as hell. I mean, Lydia and Kira? They can pull it off, but I'm not as young and spry as they are."
"You're only a few years older than them, though- That's not the point." Derek said, walking into my room. "You're not going."
"Says who?"
"Says me, that's who."
"Well, seeing as you have zero authority over me, I guess that means nothing, and that I am still going."
"You're not going Elizabeth. It's not safe out there. Especially for those of us who do not have powers of any kind." He said in his defense, crossing his large ass arms over his buff ass chest. "I don't want you getting hurt."
"First of all, may I be the one to point out that you don't have any of those powers either? And second of all: I won't." I beamed, putting on a pair of jeans and a comfortable, breathable shirt, walking over to my bed. "Because I have these."
Crouching down, I took out the one thing that has never been revealed to anyone in all of my life. My mother's almost embarrassingly extensive gun collection.
"Woah!" Derek exclaimed, jumping back in shock. "Where the hell did you get those, Elizabeth Rose Ingle?!"
I grinned at his reaction, taking out on of the many pistols and checking to see if it still had all of the ammunition that it was supposed to, which it did.
"Braeden isn't the only one to know how to shoot a gun, Hale." I smirked, tossing it to him. "These are all of my mom's old guns. All of which are fully functional, and fully loaded."
"I didn't know she collected. Or even knew how to shoot, for that matter."
"Eh, some moms are members of the PTA, some moms have very large collections of firearms," I shrugged. "My mom just happened to be both."
"And you just felt the need to withhold this information from me because...?"
I shrugged again, looking down at the weapons that my mother loved almost as much as she loved me and my dad. I didn't ever really know why she liked them so much, seeing as she didn't like to hunt nor did she ever have a job in which she required one, but she did and there was nothing wrong with that. Besides, she had a license for everything and wouldn't even let me hold one until I was sixteen. Even after that, she was still very careful. Always kept them away from everyone and in a safe place.
"It's not exactly something you tell your worst enemy or your boyfriend." I said simply. "Plus, I'm not all for firearms. Too loud and destructive for my taste. But that doesn't mean I can't shoot one like a mother fucker. So, therefore, to make sure you don't accidentally blow your brains out, I am coming with you."
He sighed and looked down at the heavy pistol in his hands before looking back at me.
"Fine," He grumbled, resulting in another grin from me. "But you stay behind me at all times, got it? I don't care that you can shoot a gun like a mother fucker, you're my girlfriend above all. And I love you more than anything. So I swear to god, Elizabeth, if you get hurt or even worse, you are never stepping foot on anything a werewolf has touched again, you hear?"
"Yeah, yeah, you love me and I love you and even though we have both established that I am well off on my own long ago, all you care about is my wellbeing and whatnot. Now lets go!"
And with that, we were off into almost certain death strapped with two to three guns each with extra ammunition. This was going to be one hell of a night.
"I love you, you know." I said after he stopped the car. "A lot."
Hale smiled at my words, kissing me passionately.
"I love you too, Elizabeth. More than you'll ever know."
And as we walked hand in hand into the warehouse that belonged to one Chris Argent, we were immediately welcomed by some familiar faces, and those of which I've never seen before.
"Hey," Scott breathed out in relief at the sight of us, walking over hurriedly. "It'll be okay."
"They've got claws and fangs, but they're not fighters." Derek said after looking at the strangers all standing with each other, trying to comfort one another.
"That's why I called you." Scott said, looking at him and then me in confusion. "And Ms. Ingle, I suppose."
"Well, try and remember that I don't have claws and fangs anymore, either."
"That's why we also called her."
And low and behold, there stood the stunning, badass, leather jacket rocking Braeden, in all of her mercenary glory. Was she rude as hell? No doubt about it. But did I also secretly have a little crush on her? No doubt about that one, either.
"Why is she here?" Braeden asked in a confused voice, probably asking the question that all of the others were thinking. Props to her for asking it first. "No offense, guys, but this isn't exactly date night material."
But I just said nothing, bringing one of my guns out from the back of my pants and shooting straight past her head, hitting a random old can perfectly.
"...She's got some secret talents." Derek said simply.
"Am I the only one still hoping that this is all just a false alarm?" Kira spoke, changing the subject. "I mean it's possible we could wait here all night and nothing happens. Right?"
"Scott, you heard anything from Stiles or Lydia yet?" Braeden asked, interrupting the girl's train of thought.
"Lydia's still talking to Meredith." He answered. "Stiles and Malia are headed to the lake house. They're trying to stop it."
"What if there is no stopping it?" A young man with wet hair and a clearly negative attitude asked, stepping up. "What if it doesn't end until we're all dead?"
The room was silent for another moment, all letting the negative boy's words sink in.
"Then let's send a message." Derek spoke strongly. "Let's make something perfectly clear to anyone with a copy of that list. It doesn't matter if they're professional assassins, hunters, or an amateur who just picked up a gun. Anyone who thinks they can hunt and kill us for money is gonna be put on another list. Our list. They get to be a name on our dead pool."
And as Braeden cocked her very large shotgun, I smiled, feeling a sense of pride wash over me. This is who Derek Hale was. A protector. A guardian angel for anyone who needed to be saved. The best thing that ever happened to me and everyone around him. He was a natural born leader, and one of the bravest people I'd ever met. This was the man I fell in love with, and I couldn't give less of a damn that he didn't have some claws or fangs or didn't change every full moon. He was perfect just the way he was, and I knew that his mother would be the proudest woman on earth if she were still with us. I know I am.
After that, they all kind of went in their own directions, leaving Derek and I alone again.
"I didn't know you had that in you," I teased him, lightening the heavy mood. "To be honest? It was kind of hot."
He chuckled and shook his head at me, bringing me into his embrace.
"Only you would be thinking about these things when we're on the brink of war." He whispered in my ear.
"Someone's gotta be the comic relief here." I said nonchalantly. "Hale?"
"Hmm?"
"If we make it out of here alive, let's go somewhere."
"First of all: when we get out of here," He corrected, placing a kiss on the top of my head. "And secondly: go where?"
"I don't know, anywhere. Like on a proper date."
"I can do that," He smiled. "Anywhere in particular?"
"I don't care. Take me to a lacrosse game or something. Somewhere where shit like this isn't going to happen."
"Fine. A lacrosse game for my baby girl with no assassins. Simple enough."
"Good. I'm glad we've come to an agreement."
"I love you, Elizabeth."
"I love you too, Hale."
But our adorable little moment was interrupted by smoke bombs being thrown in from god knows where, signaling the Beginning of the End. It's got a nice ring to it, no?
"Get back!" Braden yelled, resulting in all of us dropping to the floor.
Then the gunfire began. It was endless. Dozens of men stormed in, firing at anything and everything, trying to go for as many kills as they possibly could. It was obvious that they didn't intend on having any survivors.
Derek and I shot back at them, as did everyone else carrying a semi-automatic weapon, dodging everything in sight, ducking behind anything that could even supply the slightest bit of protection. This was a war, and we were all doing the only thing there was to do. We fought.
I don't remember when it happened, but eventually Derek and I got separated, leaving us both alone. But I pushed the fear I had of losing my boyfriend and my students, turning it into anger, using it to my advantage against the other assassins. That was one of their main disadvantages. They were fighting for nothing more than a paycheck. There was no reason other than that. The rest of us? We were fighting for everything. The werewolves and the other supernatural creatures were fighting for their lives and the lives of the ones they have lost. Chris Argent? He was fighting for his daughter and her friends – the people she cared for most in this world. Braeden was fighting because she could. Because that was the thing she did best. And Derek? What wasn't Derek fighting for?
So we continued and soldiered on, in the battle for our lives and freedom, just trying to stay alive whilst eliminating names off of our dead pool. Spotting Braeden, I rushed over to her, shooting the assassin that was about to shoot her.
"Nice shot." She said over the noise making me smile as we stood back to back, moving in circles, shooting at our opponents with the upmost precision of a mercenary and an English teacher.
"I told you," I replied smugly. "I haven't lost yet."
"Well let's keep it that way. At least until this is over, that is. I want to see the look on your face after I take away that undefeated title away from you!"
Laughing, I shot another assassin before looking at her for a quick second.
"Oh, it's on!"
Going our separate ways, we both worked our asses off at not getting killed, probably experiencing something that will give us both nightmares for the rest of our lives. Then... it all just stopped. The gunfire, the screaming, the heavy footsteps, the panic – all of it. It just stopped. So one by one, we all exited our hiding places, looking around the compound for any trace of it starting up again. But, as suspected, we found nothing. Just the bodies of assassins lying around on the floor and quite the bit of blood.
Upon seeing a healthy (and barely even touched) Derek, the weight that had been resting on my shoulders was finally lifted. We both sighed in relief, jogging over to each other lightly and hugging the crap out of each other, not saying a word.
"Is it over?" Kira asked Scott timidly, scared it would start up again any second. "Really over?"
Scott nodded in confirmation, making us all breathe another collective sigh of relief.
"Come on," Derek whispered in my ear, taking off his jacket and draping it over my shoulders and placing yet another kiss on my forehead. "Let's go home."