After our run-in with Jackson, Stiles dropped off Scott near the woods. He was hoping to catch Allison on the trail that she normally jogs and he had to give her back the necklace—the one that he took from her bedroom.
Then, Stiles and I went home. Our dad wasn't home yet so I got my car keys and I took off for a little drive through town. I had to clear my head and take some time away from my brother because his incessant whining about my kiss with "his enemy" was driving me insane.
The only reason that he even found out was because I was writing in my old diary for the first time in years and he had walked in, curiously looking over my shoulder before I realized he was behind me.
I couldn't stop wondering about Derek. The fact that he had joined his uncle's side in this little battle sequence of our lives just shook something inside me. I couldn't understand why he would do it and why he hadn't come to see me—to tell me himself.
He had to be somewhere, doing something. I just didn't know what. And that bugged me. I mean, you don't just kiss a girl twice in one night and then leave without a trace.
Didn't I deserve to know why he teamed up with his psychotic uncle?
It was dark outside by the time I got back home after my drive. I heard voices in the kitchen, so, that's where I went.
When I got into the dining room, I saw my dad and my brother seated at the table and my dad was drinking a full glass of whiskey. He would never do that. My brother turned around and I glared at him. I stalked over and was about to take the glass from my dad when I saw the papers that were spread out on the table.
Then I froze.
Files upon files relating to arsonists and the Hale fire. My dad was trying to piece it together and solve a six year old case.
My eyes widened and I looked up at my father. By then, he had already finished the glass of whiskey and set the glass on the table and leaned over it on his elbows. He was already wasted.
"You know, Derek Hale would be a whole hale of a lot...Hale of a lot?" he slurred.
"Hell of a lot?" my brother asked.
"Hell," my dad dragged out. "Yes. He would be a hell of a lot easier to catch if we could get an actual picture of him," my dad said.
"How do you not have a picture of him?" Stiles asked.
"It's the weirdest thing. It's like every time we try to get a mug shot, it's like two..." my dad started out, like he was trying to find the right words, "laser beams were pointing at the camera," my dad finished as Stiles took a photo of Derek from my dad's hands.
Stiles looked up at me. "The flash. It triggers the glowing hue of our eyes," I whispered.
"Nice," my brother observed.
My dad looked up when he heard my voice and he smiled when he saw me. "Hi, Sarah," he mused in his drunkened state.
I chuckled at him. "Hi, Daddy," I said.
He groaned and leaned back in his chair, taking his glasses off of his face and rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, my God," he groaned. "God, that ounce hit me like a brick. And I have said way too much, and if you repeat any of that—"
"Wha—Dad...It's me. I'm not gonna say anything," my brother objected.
"And I just got here, so I didn't hear anything anyway," I added—which wasn't a total lie—as my brother grabbed a file and removed the papers from inside.
"See, the thing is they're all connected. I mean, the bus driver that got killed, he was an insurance investigator assigned to the Hale house fire," my dad continued.
I heard about the bus driver. Derek told me about the Alpha calling Scott out to try to get Scott to kill with him. Only, they hadn't succeeded the night the Alpha—well, Peter—wanted to actually kill the driver, and the driver died later in the hospital.
"'Terminated under suspicion of fraud'," my brother read from the file in my dad's hand.
"Exactly," my dad said, shaking his head.
"Who else?" my brother asked.
He was clearly already onto something that my dad wasn't, so, I leaned in closer to read over his shoulder.
"The video store clerk who got his throat slashed...He's a convicted felon, history of arson," my dad explained.
"Oh. Oh, I see what's going on," I muttered to myself.
I knew what Peter was up to. It wasn't hard to figure it out now that we had the missing pieces we needed.
"What about the other two guys? The guys who got killed in the woods?" my brother asked our dad.
"Priors all over their records including..."
"Arson," my brother and I said at the time.
"So, maybe they all had something to do with the fire," my brother added to himself.
My dad started to lean back again in his seat as he put his glasses on the table and Stiles reached for the bottle of whiskey. "Another shot?" he asked our dad.
"No, no, no. No more," our dad protested as I tried to snatch the bottle from Stiles's hand.
"Dad, come on. You work really hard, all right. You deserve it," Stiles sweet-talked him, preventing me from grabbing the bottle as well.
So, my dad gave in to my idiot brother. "Oh, my God. I'm gonna have such a hangover," my dad said as Stiles reached for his glass again.
"You mean you're gonna have such a good night's sleep," my brother corrected. I glared at him as he turned away from our dad. "And I'm gonna have an eternity in the lowest circle of hell," he continued more quietly has he poured more whiskey to the top of the glass.
"Yes, you are. What the hell do you think you're doing, Stiles? Dad hasn't drank like that in years," I growled at my brother under my breath.
"It was the only way he was going to tell me what he was working on," my brother said to me under his breath before he turned around again and placed the glass in front of our father. "We need to know where his investigation is going and we just proved that."
I groaned and sat in the seat across from my dad when he grabbed the glass in his hand and started to drink it. He drank the whole glass in one sip.
I put my head in my hands and groaned. I hated that Stiles was getting our father to drink again. It crushed me, because it made me think back to when my mom died.
My dad had been straddling the border of being an alcoholic back then.
He drank a lot in that first year or so. He almost lost his job because of it. But after I did everything I could, I was was able to cut him back to one drink every few days or so.
And now, when he drinks heavily, it really upsets me because I know he's stressed about something. He had to be stressed about cracking this case if he didn't realize Stiles tricked him like that.
I heard my dad sigh and looked up again as Stiles put the empty glass back on the tabletop.
Fuck, he drank it all that fast?
"Stiles, Sarah, there's just so many questions," my dad nearly slurred as he rubbed his eyes with the heel his hand.
"Like what?" Stiles asked.
"Like, if Derek...wanted to kill everyone involved with the fire...then why start with his sister? I mean, she had nothing to do with it," my dad rambled. My brother's face fell a bit and I frowned, too.
Derek didn't kill his sister and we both knew that.
"Why make it look like some kind of animal did it?" my dad asked. "When that cougar ended up in the parking lot...I checked with animal control. You know the instances of wild animal reports were up 70% over the past few months?" my dad kept rambling on to the both of us. "It's like they're just going crazy, running out of the woods. I don't know." My dad has his head resting in his hand as his elbow was propped on the table.
"Or something's scaring them out," Stiles agreed.
My dad nodded with a sigh and then looked over at my baby brother. I looked at them both sadly as my dad started to talk. "You know, I miss talking to you," he said to Stiles as Stiles started digging into his shirt pocket. "It's like we never have time..."
"Dad, you know, I have to make a phone call...I'm sorry. I'll be right back," my brother interrupted him, standing up to dial someone.
"Stiles," I muttered to my brother. I hated seeing them so disconnected like this.
"I do. I miss it. And Sarah's far away for college all the time..." my dad sighed. I looked over at my father as tears came to my eyes. He didn't even know how much I didn't want to go so far away.
I just had no choice in the matter.
"Dad," I said softly, reaching across the table to rest my hand on his arm.
"And I miss your mom," he whispered.
My hand froze halfway across the table and my heart started to pound. I looked up at my brother and he had froze in his place, too.
He turned to look at our dad. "What'd you say?" Stiles asked him.
I looked back at my dad, who grabbed the bottle of whiskey again and I stood out of my chair as my brother came back over. At the same time, the two of us grabbed the bottle and stopped him from pouring it out onto the table.
"Thanks," he said softly.
I looked at my brother and walked around the table. "Go make your phone call, Stiles. I'll take him upstairs to his room so he can sleep it off," I said to my brother softly before I turned to my dad. "Come on, Daddy," I said gently to him.
I wrapped his arm around my shoulders and my arm around his waist so that I could carry him. "Up we go," I said as I pulled him to his feet.
The two of us walked out of the kitchen together toward the staircase. Well, actually, I walked and my dad kind of wobbled in my arms.
"Sarah, why did you have to go so far away for school? I miss my little girl. You barely visit us anymore," my dad rambled quietly as I hauled him up the staircase. I heard the front door swing shut and I sighed.
His words were hurting my heart, crushing it slowly into a million pieces. I frowned as we reached the top. "I don't know why I barely visit, Dad, but you know that my campus has the best law school on this side of the coast," I told him gently.
I actually did know why I hardly visit, but he didn't have to know that, exactly.
He sighed as I pushed open his bedroom door. "All right. Here we are. Get some sleep, Daddy," I whispered to him as I laid him on top of his covers. He snuggled into the pillow and sighed silently with his eyes closed.
I took a step back and looked around the bedroom. I chewed on my lip when I saw some photos on my father's dresser.
One photo was of my mom holding me in her arms the night I was born. I smiled sadly at it and ran my finger along the glass over her smiling face.
The next one was of my mom holding Stiles when he was born. I scoffed softly with a heavy heart as I saw his crying face in the photograph.
Next to that one was a photo of me and my brother with both of my parents. It was when Stiles had turned one. I was six at that point and I had my head in my hands as I watched my brother smash his cake with his hands.
"You look more like her every day," my dad mused softly.
A tear ran down my face and I turned back to him. "I know, Daddy. Get some sleep. I love you," I whispered.
I kissed his forehead and disappeared into the hallway toward my own bedroom. I shut my door harshly behind me, thinking that I splintered the wood.
Thank God I didn't.
My heart was starting to race faster and faster as the tears rolled slowly down my face. I looked over at my closed bedroom window and pushed myself over to it.
With shaking hands, I opened the window and kneeled to the floor. My mind and my heart was telling me to call out for him, telling me I needed him.
So, I spoke his name into the wind as I cried.
"Derek? If you can hear me, I need you."
God, I'm really doing this. Why am I doing this?
"I don't know where you've been, and I know you're with your uncle...but please, I need to see you," I spoke softly into the night sky.
I sat back underneath my window, burying my face into my kneecaps as I waited for him to show up. I prayed that he heard me and that he would come.
What could he be doing? Did he even hear my calls?
He promised that if I ever needed him, all I had to do was call for him and he would be there. No matter where I was or what he was doing. So why wasn't he here now?
"Please," I whimpered again, feeling more heartbroken and vulnerable when I spoke that one word.
"Sarah, I need your help! Derek's going to kill Jackson for Peter."
A different voice flowed into my sensitive wolf ears and I sat up, looking out of the window and saw Scott standing in the woods.
"Please. We have to help Jackson," Scott spoke up to me.
Rage and pain built up in my chest. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and climbed out of my window, my eyes glowing blue. I ran into the woods and as I passed by Scott, he followed me immediately.
We got to the Hale house and I heard Derek inside with a frightened Jackson. I could sense Jackson's fear, his panic. He knew he was going to die and he was begging for his life, crying much like I had been.
Scott and I ran to the back of the house and slipped inside. He went upstairs and I went through the kitchen on the first level.
"—and no one cares that you're captain of the lacrosse team!" Derek was yelling.
I narrowed my eyes, rage filling every nerve in my body. I felt betrayed and I felt my trust in him disintegrate. He made a promise that he didn't keep and I was sick of people lying to me. I was sick of mistrusting people who just let me down in the end.
"Excuse me," I heard Scott's voice from above me. "Co-captain," he said.
I heard him jump from the top of the staircase and and then Derek snarled at Scott, which meant he had let out his wolf.
"Move," he demanded.
"No," Scott disobeyed.
"Fine. I'll kill you, too," Derek growled.
With his empty threat toward Scott, I stepped into the foyer with my arms across my chest.
"What about me? Huh? Are you going kill me, too, Derek?" I asked him.
"If I have to," he snapped, but I heard the jolt in his heart that told me he was putting up a front.
It just pissed me off more.
I narrowed my eyes and started wolf out, the urge to rip his head off making it easy to turn. But I froze when I honed in on a sound that was like an arrow being released from a bowstring.
"Cover your eyes!" Derek yelled at me and Scott as he ducked out of the way.
A flash bomb went off as I covered my eyes, but it blinded Scott.
I looked back up as bullets started flying at the house. I saw Derek lunge out of the way and I pushed Scott out of the way, too, since he couldn't see anything.
As Scott fell off to the opposite side of the room, I felt a bullet pierce my abdomen and I cried, falling over to where I had pushed Scott to.
He caught me as I stumbled and we both fell to the floor as bullets kept flying through the wood panels of the house.
I started coughing, blood dripping from my lips as I whined in pain. The bullet wound started to burn, blue smoke rising from it. I whined again threw my head back against the wall behind me.
Wolfsbane.
I heard a heart beating fast and recognized Derek's own panic and rage as it rolled from him in waves toward me.
"Get her out of here!" Derek yelled.
Scott tried to move me, but I cried out in pain. "No, no," I whimpered. "It hurts."
The next thing I knew, Derek had run over and he gently grabbed my arms. He helped Scott pick me up even with my protesting and Scott wrapped his arms around my waist.
"Run!" Derek yelled.
Scott pulled me out of the house and by the time we left through the back, I heard Derek's loud howl.
It was the last thing I heard before slipping out of consciousness.
⊰⊱
OOF ANGST
okay so i made that gif myself. i'm sorry it sucks lol
i suck at keeping up with this buuuut qotd (unrelated to teen wolf) : if i published a Daryl Dixon story, who would read it??
i'm not publishing one anytime soon because neither of them are ready (yes I have 2 oof), but i'm just curious lol.
Please vote and/or comment and share with your fellow Derek Hale/Teen Wolf fans.
I hope you've enjoyed the chapter and until next time, I bid you adieu.