xxix. LET IT ALL IN
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STILES TOLD HIS father that he had a lot of homework to do, and that he didn't want anything to eat. There was a case that the Sheriff was too invested in to be aware of anything unusual in Stiles' face or tone. Stiles briefly recalled what the case had involved, something about an early morning jogger finding Erik Stone lying unconscious in town square with almost all of his blood having vanished from his body.
He was lucky to be alive; the police were just waiting for him to get stronger to see if he remembered what or who attacked him.
Once in his room, Stiles locked the door. He dug through his desk until he found a pair of headphones, and he plugged them into his iPod. He picked an album that Liam had requested right after Carter had died. It was one of Liam's favorite bands, but they used a little too much bass and shrieking for Stiles' tastes. He selected to repeat the album and lay down on his bed. He put on the headphones, hit Play, and turned up the volume until it hurt his ears. He closed his eyes, but the light still intruded, so he added a pillow over the top half of his face.
Stiles concentrated very carefully on the music, trying to understand the lyrics, to unravel the complicated drum patterns. By the third time he'd listened through the album, he knew all the words to the choruses, at least. He was surprised to find that he really did like the band after all, once he got past the blaring noise. He'd have to thank Liam.
And it worked. The shattering beats made it impossible for him to think—which was the whole purpose of the exercise. He listened to the album again and again, until he was singing along with all the songs, until, finally, he fell asleep.
He opened his eyes to a familiar place. Aware in some corner of his consciousness that he was dreaming, he recognized the green light of the Preserve. He could hear the rushing water of the quarry somewhere nearby. And he knew that if he found the quarry, he'd be able to see the sun. He was trying to follow the sound, but then Malia Tate was there, tugging on his hand, pulling him back toward the blackest part of the Preserve.
"Malia? What's wrong?" Stiles asked. Her face was frightened as she yanked with all her strength against his resistance; he didn't want to go into the dark.
"Run, Stiles, you have to run!" she whispered, terrified.
"This way, Stiles!" He recognized Logan's voice calling out of the gloomy heart of the trees, but he couldn't see him.
"Why?" Stiles asked, still pulling against Malia's grasp, desperate now to find the sun.
But Malia let go of his hand and yelped, suddenly shaking, falling to the dim Preserve floor. She twitched on the ground as he watched in horror.
"Malia!" He screamed. But she was gone. In her place was a tan coyote with glowing cold steel blue eyes. The coyote faced away from him, pointing toward the shore, the hair on the back of her shoulders bristling, low growls issuing from between her exposed fangs.
"Stiles, run!" Logan cried out again from behind Stiles. But he didn't turn. He was watching a light coming toward him from the shore of the quarry.
And then Carter stepped out from the trees, her skin faintly glowing—like a porcelain doll with a candle lit inside—her eyes dark and dangerous. She held up one hand and beckoned him to come to her. The coyote growled at her feet.
Stiles took a step forward, toward Carter. She smiled then, and her teeth were sharp, pointed.
"Trust me," she purred.
He took another step and another until he was standing right in front of her. Carter grabbed his chin and pulled his face to hers and kissed him hard. He reciprocated. It was as if he were a starving man who'd finally found sustenance in her mouth. They kissed, and he closed his eyes and forgot about the growling coyote.
All of a sudden, he felt a sharp pain on his neck, as if he were being stabbed. He called out, but Carter was still kissing him. But no, not kissing, biting, sucking the blood from beneath his skin. Stiles' eyes flew open, and he saw Carter's eyes, wild and black, her face ghostly white with shadows casting over it. He wrenched his head back, but the pain was unrelenting, and he couldn't scream, couldn't fight, could only see that the sun had faded into the moon, and could only feel the blood leaving his body, and desire and beat and anger and terror all welling up inside him. If this was what death felt like, then he wanted it. He wanted it, and that was when he flung his arms around Carter, giving himself to her.
Then the coyote launched herself across the space, causing Stiles to stumble back away from Carter, fangs aiming for the jugular.
"No!" Stiles screamed, wrenching upright out of his bed.
His sudden movement caused the headphones to pull the iPod off the bedside table, and it clattered to the carpeted floor. The light was still on, and he was sitting fully dressed on the bed, with his shoes on. He glanced, disoriented, at the clock on his dresser. It was six-thirty in the morning.
Stiles groaned, fell back, and rolled over onto his face, kicking off his sneakers. He was too uncomfortable to get anywhere near sleep, though. He rolled back over and unbuttoned his flannel, yanking it off awkwardly as he tried to stay horizontal. He pulled the pillow back over his eyes.
It was all no use, of course. His subconscious had dredged up exactly the images he'd been trying so desperately to avoid. He was going to have to face them now. And those images flashed through his mind like quickly flipping the pages on a notepad, revealing a story. There was so much pain in those images; he groaned, rubbing his injured shoulder. But that wasn't what caused this throbbing panic in his chest that drained all the energy from his body. That wasn't why he felt as if he were falling even when he sat as still as he could get.
What caused the panic was that he remembered.
He remembered everything now.
That night—the same night he killed Donovan. Carter came to visit him, helped him take off his bloody clothes until...until her fingernails dug into the wound on his shoulder. He felt a pulsing pain on the same shoulder that seemed to keep time with the ticking clock. He remembered watching as Carter brought her hand up to her mouth, his blood on her lips. The terror as her lips drew back, her teeth sparkling. His heart pounding as though he were dying and being born all at the same time. The awful pain, the black eyes. He glanced around wildly.
Stiles sat up, and his head spun for a minute as the blood flowed downward. He swung his legs out of bed and tried to step out, only to find himself tangled in the sheets. He needed to see Carter, but he was more than happy to put if off as long as possible. He pulled himself out of the sheets and headed into the bathroom.
The shower didn't last nearly as long as he hoped it would, though. With a towel fastened around his hips, he went back into his room. He couldn't tell if his father was asleep, or if he had already left. He went to look out his window, and the Sheriff's car was gone. Must've caught a lead in the case.
Stiles dressed slowly in his most comfy sweats and then made his bed—something he never did. He couldn't put it off any longer. Hearing his stomach growl, he decided to go get himself a bowl of cereal.
He ate slowly, chewing each bite with care. When he was done, he washed the bowl and spoon, dried them, and put them away. His feet dragged as he climbed the stairs. He needed to grab his car keys, which he accidentally forgot.
Stiles shoved his feet into his sneakers and went downstairs. Shrugging into his sweater without checking the weather and stomped out the door. It was overcast, but not raining yet. Making a hast decision, he put his keys in his pocket and ignored his truck and started east on foot, angling across the damp green yard toward the ever-encroaching Preserve that began behind his house. It didn't take long till he was deep enough for the house and the road to be invisible, for the only sound to be the squish of the damp earth under his feet and the sudden cries of the jays.
There was a thin ribbon of a trail that led through the forest here that led directly to Scott's house on the other side, or he wouldn't risk wandering on his own like this. He sense of direction was almost as hopeless as Scott's; he could get lost in much less helpful surroundings. The trail wound deeper and deeper into the Preserve. It snaked around the spruces and the hemlocks, the yews and the maples.
A few drops of moisture trickled down from the canopy above him, but he couldn't be certain if it was beginning to rain or if it was simply pools left over from yesterday, held high in the leaves above him, slowly dripping their way back to the earth. A recently fallen tree rested against the trunk of one of her sisters. Stiles stepped over the tree and kept moving.
The forest was deep green and far too much like the scene in last night's dream to allow for peace of mind. The birds were quiet, the drops increasing in frequency, so it must be raining above. He shivered and began to worry that the path would somehow disappear with the rain.
But it was here, safe and clear, winding its way out of the dripping green maze. He followed it hastily, his hood pulled close around his face, becoming surprised, as he nearly ran through the trees. Stiles started to wonder if he was heading out at all, or had somehow wondered off the path into the further confines of the Preserve. Before he could get too panicky, though, he began to glimpse some open spaces through the webbed branches. And then he could hear a car passing on the street, and he was free, Scott's lawn stretched out in front of him, the house beckoning him.
Without knocking, Stiles opened the door and was immediately engulfed by warmth. Scott was sitting at the kitchen table, spooning cereal into his mouth with his eyes locked on Stiles, who had just barged into his house. Melissa, who was pouring coffee into a mug, almost let the cup slip through her fingers when the door slammed shut behind Stiles.
Wringing his hands, Stiles stuttered, suddenly nervous to speak to his own friend. "Is, uh...is Carter—did she already leave? O-O-Or is she still h-here?"
Scott blinked and swallowed a mouthful of cereal. "Um, yeah. She's upstairs."
"Good morning to you, too, Stiles." Melissa greeted sarcastically, wiping up the coffee she spilled with a paper towel.
Stiles nodded and bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
When he got to the top of the stairs, he was immediately consumed by his nerves. He came to this house without a plan. He didn't know what he was going to say to her, didn't know how to explain what he remembered. Man up, Stiles, he thought to himself, just go in there and tell her.
He was making his way toward the guest bedroom, which was located at the very end of the hallway, when heard singing coming out of Scott's room. Backtracking, he leaned into the room, listening closely. As the singing continued, he knew it was Carter; there was also the sound of water splashing. She was taking a bath. Stepping into the room, he managed to gather up as much courage as he could and waltzed right into the bathroom.
Carter lied back in the bathtub, water filled to the brim—almost spilling out—with thick bubbles covering the top. Washing her upper arms with a washcloth, she acknowledged him. "Hello, Stiles," she said coquettishly.
"I remember," he babbled, knowing he sounded insane and possessed, like a drunk stumbling out of a bar.
Carter continued to run the cloth along her arms. The face he'd seen that night was...he didn't even know. It had been a face filled with thirst and desire and emotions he couldn't even think to name. But in this light Carter looked more beautiful than ever, blinking her eyes.
"Carter?" Stiles asked, forcing himself to look into her eyes. "Are you like Raeven now?"
Carter slowly stood out of the water; the bubbles that remained on her skin left nothing to the imagination but Stiles' eyes never moved off her face. She reached out to grab a towel and wrapped it around her body. She pulled on the elastic band which was holding her hair in a knot on top of her head, allowing her luxurious locks to cascade down her back.
"You're not afraid, are you?" she asked. "I know I hurt you, but you can't be afraid of me. I don't know what I would do if you were."
So she was like Raeven. His blood turned to ice.
Stiles turned and walked out of the bathroom, not knowing what else to do or say. Fast as lightning, Carter was at his side, her hand gripping his shoulder. Unsurprisingly, she was stronger than him, and he had to jerk sharply to wrench himself away from her grasp. Once free, Carter stepped back.
"Shhh. Shhh," Carter murmured, tears welling up in her big eyes.
"Stop!" He yelled, holding his hand up. He would not have her try to charm him. "You're a Demi-Demon. You attacked Erik. The entire Sheriff's department is looking for you. I have to—"
But then he caught sight of her eyes, her large, luminous, seemingly depthless eyes with tears in them, and he stopped short.
"You can't be afraid." Carter repeated.
The words echoed in Stiles' mind, bouncing around and finally taking residence there. He did not know how or why it was so, but in his heart of hearts, he just couldn't be afraid of the girl he loved. He kept trying to look back on that night, but he kept stumbling upon moments of Carter when she was happy, smiling...he just couldn't be afraid of her. But still, she fed on him and Malakai did something to his mind—he would never be able to forget that, but he could forgive because there was nothing else he could do.
"You attacked me and Erik, though. How can I abide that?"
"Stiles. We'll figure it out, okay? We'll get through this together." She cupped her chin in his hands, then raised up on her toes for a kiss. In the near sunlight, Carter's teeth looked pearly white and normal, and nothing like the miniature daggers he'd seen that night. "It's me. I'm still Carter and I never meant to hurt you. I tried so hard to keep myself from becoming like her, but I'm still me," she said, smiling.
He forced himself to pull away. He took a step back and cradled his head in his hands. His mind whirled. The sun was just beginning to peak through the clouds, and it was impossible to tell whether the mist hid a brilliant sun or a day of overcast clouds. It was the same with Carter. Her beautiful exterior cloaked her true spirit—just like Raeven—making it impossible to ascertain whether she was the way she'd been before her death or if she was just as conniving as her doppelgänger. He couldn't shake the fact that she was more than willing to do things she never would've done before, like killing someone for revenge, but in that moment, he didn't have the time to psychoanalyze her actions.
Stiles sunk heavily to the bed, not wanting to leave and not wanting to stay.
"I need you to trust me," Carter said, sitting down beside him and placing her hand on his chest so she could feel his heartbeat. "I am Carter Hale. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm the girl you met at the beginning of sophomore year. What you remember about that night is nothing. It doesn't change how you feel, how I feel, what we are," she said, moving her hand from his chest to his chin. "Right?" she asked, her voice filled with urgency.
He glanced at Carter's wide brown eyes and knew she was right.
His heart knew that he still loved her so much, and he wanted to do anything to be with her. Because she wasn't a Demi-Demon; she was Carter. He grabbed both her hands, cupping them in his own. They looked so small and vulnerable. He brought her cold, delicate fingers to his mouth and kissed them, one by one, Carter looked so scared and unsure.
"Promise you'll keep this between us, Stiles? I don't want Scott finding out about Erik, especially not after the way he reacted to Kira almost killing that Chimera. Promise me?" Carter asked, her dark eyes searching his.
"Of course I will," he said, making the promise as much to himself as to her. He loved Carter. And yes, she was like Raeven. And yet...being around her was so different from being around Raeven. There was no unease.
"I love you, Stiles."
"I love you, too, Carter."
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"My mom's book club usually has more wine." Lydia commented as they all stared down at the several copies of The Dread Doctors that were fanned out on the coffee table in Scott's living room.
"I don't know about everyone else, but I definitely could use some wine right now." Logan joked dryly, an attempt to cause his rattled nerves. He didn't want to hold the book in his hands let alone read the entire thing—he though he was better off not knowing what those things did to him.
Carter made a noise in agreement. The last thing she wanted was to be standing in the middle of Scott's living room looking at the book that could potentially open the flood gates on what they did to her. She didn't need to read the book to remember because all she wanted to do was forget. The memories were so fresh, like they had just happened mere moments ago, and painfully vivid. And that's why she decided she wasn't going to read the book at all.
Stiles quirked up an eyebrow. "Well, they also probably didn't read books that cause violent hallucinations."
"That's why Malia's here," Scott said, nodding in her direction.
Apparently, while the rest of them went to Eichen House, Malia was at the library with Theo when she finished reading the book. Theo offered her a ride home—saying it would be good practice if she drove herself—when she had her "violent hallucination". She'd stopped the truck in the middle of the road and stumbled into the opposite lane. Theo managed to pull her away from an oncoming car. Which reminded Carter that she needed to talk to Theo, since they hadn't officially met yet.
"So none of us become a permanent skid mark on the 115?" Malakai said, emerging from the kitchen with a bag of chips in his hands. Carter rolled her eyes at him.
Scott nodded. "Or worse."
Malia blinked, looking down as she recalled back to something that happened in the book. "Like what happened to Judy."
Logan tilted his head. "I'm sorry. Judy? Is that one of you new friends? Or am I missing something?"
"She's in the book. Chapter Fourteen." Malia narrowed her eyes at Logan, who just smirked.
Lydia reached down and grabbed the original paperback copy of the book. "Maybe I should have my mother read it. She might remember a girl with a tail leaping off the ceiling and attacking everyone."
Carter pursed her lips, crossing her arms over her chest. "Or that I got a tail punched through me and survived."
"Yeah, if it works." Stiles clarified, still not one-hundred percent sold that Valack had been telling the truth about what would happen if they read the book.
Lydia sighed. "It had to."
"What does that mean?"
Lydia glanced at Scott, unsure. "I think I saw them during my surgery. When I look at the cover of the book...it's almost like—"
"—A memory trying to surface." Theo concluded, finishing Lydia's thought.
At the sound of his voice, Carter looked over to meet his eyes. This was, in fact, the very first time she was actually seeing him. Of course, he'd been the one that wrapped the belt around her waist after Tracy attacked her, but she hadn't seen him since. Her evil radar might've been a bit off, but she just couldn't sense why Stiles thought the boy was so "evil". In her opinion, she thought he was regrettably attractive—hot even—sort of charming, and definitely not evil.
Their eyes stayed locked for a few more moments until Theo offered Carter a small smile, she returned it and moved her eyes back to Lydia. Little did she know, Stiles had been glaring at the sight of Carter and Theo making eye contact, he was going to do everything in his power to keep Theo away from her.
"Yeah," Lydia agreed with Theo.
Kira's eyes suddenly darted around the group. "Isn't that what Valack wanted when he wrote it?"
"If they did something to me, I want to know what it is." Lydia stated with finality as she made her way to a chair with her hand locked in a vice-grip around the book.
"Well," Carter cleared her throat awkwardly, drawing everyone's attention to her. "I remember everything they did to me, so...I'm not reading it. Sorry."
Everyone opened their mouths to protest, but Carter made herself pretty clear when she clapped her hands on her thighs and plopped down on the couch behind her. The others sighed, knowing that when Carter set her mind on something, there wasn't anyone or anything that could persuade her.
They all grabbed their own copies and got comfortable. Stiles and Malia made their way into the kitchen; Scott, Kira, and Logan all sat on the couch adjacent to the one Carter was sitting on; Malakai sunk down to the floor in front of Carter, leaning his head against her knee and Theo took the open spot beside Carter.
For the first half-hour, everyone read in silence—except for the occasional sigh here and there. Carter was comfortably in the silence, running her fingers through Malakai's thick raven hair, which almost lulled him to sleep. She leaned her head back against the cushion, trying to ignore how much heat was radiating from Theo's body beside her. She was so cold it took almost all her will-power not to lean on him, just to try and siphon up some of his warmth.
"Anyone feeling anything yet?" Scott asked.
Kira rubbed at her eyes. "Tired."
Lydia nodded. "Hungry."
"I think he meant the book." Theo announced.
They all shook their heads and continued to push through the book. With the silence finally broken, Carter decided it would be a good time to "introduce" herself to Theo. She turned her upper body slightly, removing her fingers from Malakai's hair—which caused him to groan in protest—she nudged Theo's bicep with her hand. Marking his spot on the page, Theo set the book down in his lap and turned to look at Carter.
She suddenly found herself becoming nervous under his intense blue stare. "I, um...I know I should've done this earlier, but with everything going on with The Dread Doctors and me coming back to life and school, I just couldn't find the right time to go out and—" she paused, noticing the overwhelmed expression on his face by how fast she was talking "—and I'm rambling, yeah."
Theo chuckled. The rich, deep sound echoed in her ears and she found herself becoming so enthralled by him that she had hardly noticed Stiles staring at them. There was just something about him that drew her in and she tried to push against it, but was too weak to stand any chance. She could feel Malakai radiate warning thoughts toward her; cautioning her. But she didn't see the harm in talking to Theo, she and Malakai had spent a month trying to find anything that could possibly make Theo a suspect and they didn't find anything, so she was just making casually conversation.
"Yeah, just a little," Theo replied, smiling as he stretched his arm out on the back of the couch. "But you're fine, I don't mind."
"Well, we never officially met." Carter announced and Theo rose an eyebrow as she stuck her hand out to him. "I'm Carter Hale."
"Theo Raeken," he took her hand in his, shaking it and returned his arm to the back of the couch. "I've heard a lot about you."
At that, Carter caught Scott's eyes, who immediately returned his attention to the book, acting like he hadn't been watching them like everyone else was. "All good things, I hope." Carter joked, smiling brightly.
Theo, now, could completely understand why people were so attracted to Pheanixs. There was something about being around Carter that just made him never want to leave; to always want to be in her presence. She was so alluring, being able to sink her hooks into someone with just her eyes without even realizing she's doing it. Theo could also see that she had her claws in Scott and Stiles pretty deep, so deep that there was no chance they would ever be able to go back to how they were before. Carter had permanently changed all of their lives just being in a room with them.
Despite knowing what Pheanixs are capable of, he found himself not being able to resist her natural charms. She was drawing him in and they'd only officially known one another for two minutes.
"Definitely all good things," Theo said, glancing to where Malia was sitting. "Except for the things Malia said about you."
Carter chuckled, shrugging. "Well, she's my cousin, what can I do?" She licked her lips and lowered her voice, leaning in closer to Theo. "I heard that Stiles doesn't trust you very much."
Theo's eyes immediately landed on the boy, whose back was facing them. "Yeah, he won't even give me the chance to speak. Has he always been like that?"
"Pretty much. I mean, one time he accused me of committing ritualistic sacrifices."
Carter and Theo talked for a few more minutes until they decided that he should continue to read the book while she went back to messing with Malakai's hair. The smell of coffee caused Carter to look up and saw Stiles rubbing his shoulder gently. From that distance she could hear him groan in pain while doing it. And that's when she smelled the blood. The familiar pain in her gums returned and so did the gnawing hunger. Malakai must've sensed it because he reached back to grip her hands and began to mentally calm her.
Once the hunger had subsided and her breathing had regulated, she noticed that Malia was staring questionably at Stiles' injured shoulder. "What did you do to you shoulder?" She asked, holding the coffee pot in her hand.
"What are you talking about?" Stiles asked, trying to act as though nothing was wrong.
"I can smell the blood. What happened?"
"Jeep died on me again. I went to check the engine, the hood fell on it." Stiles lied. Carter looked over to see that Theo was listening in as well.
Carter stopped listening in after that. She knew that Malia was listening to Stiles steady heartbeat, which was pointless because Stiles knows how to control his heart rate, it's something that comes in handy when lying to someone in a room full of supernatural creatures that can hear his heart. And even though his heart was steady, she could tell that Malia didn't believe him. She continued to play with Malakai's hair, pretending not to notice that Theo continued to listen to Malia and Stiles' conversation. Whatever they were talking about, must've been pretty interesting but Carter couldn't bring herself to care anymore.
She was becoming increasingly bored. As the hours passed, each member of the pack eventually fell asleep one-by-one. First, it was Kira, who appeared to be having a hard time keeping her eyes open while she was reading and she decided to sleep upstairs in the guest room. Logan was the next one to fall asleep, leaning his head back against the cushion with his mouth hanging wide open, the book falling to the floor. Stiles and Malia moved back into the living room and they quickly nodded off with her on the couch next to Scott and Stiles against Carter's legs. Sometime before that, Malakai had gotten up off the floor and went upstairs.
For a good fifteen minutes, the only ones left awake were Lydia, Carter and Theo. But, eventually, Lydia curled up on the chair and covered herself with a blanket before falling asleep. Theo and Carter were quickly engulfed by a comfortable silence as they sunk further into the couch. The air kicked on once again, blowing a cool breeze from the vents and the direction of the air caused a scent to smack Carter right in the face.
Blood.
Stiles' blood.
Her nostrils flared. The smell of his blood was intoxicating to her weary body and if she wanted to, all she had to do was lean forward and take it. Her fangs extended and throbbed. She shook her head and fought against the urge. It was only by the grace of her love for Stiles, that she didn't bite down on his exposed neck. Before she knew what was happening, she stood from the couch and bolted out of the house. She needed to feed or she was going to start ripping into her friends.
Carter immediately ran into the shadows, enjoying how they welcomed her into the darkness. She moved through the tree with precise accuracy. It felt as though she'd only been running for a few minutes but she quickly made it to the cemetery. The trees of the cemetery had turned a decayed brown, and a cold breeze had whistled in, replacing the stifling heat of the California summer. For some reason, she felt as though the only way to change the chill in her body was to warm it with the blood of her next victim.
That was when she caught sight of her. Her next victim was only a few feet away: a chestnut-haired girl who was currently climbing over the fence of the Richards' house, which ran adjacent to the cemetery. Carter felt her fangs pulse with the promise of a new meal. By the time Carter entered the cemetery, she found a woman in a white dress, leaning against a tall marble headstone, smoking a cigarette. With what little light there was, Carter could see several hickeys scattered on the woman's neck.
The woman looked up, her startled expression turning into a slow smile as she realized Carter was not a threat. "Want a smoke?" she asked, blowing smoke into concentric circles that blended with the mist in the air.
Carter stepped toward her. The woman dropped her cigarette. The ash sparked, then extinguished. Carter felt the bulge of her fangs behind her lips. It was just a matter of time now.
"Well, I have to go. I've got work in the morning," the woman muttered, taking a step away from Carter, as if sensing an attack.
Carter grabbed her arm and pulled her close. She let out one short yelp before Carter covered her mouth with her hand. "No need to worry about that anymore," she hissed, sinking her teeth into her neck.
The liquid tasted like smoke and iron. Carter grimaced at the taste, but couldn't find enough disgust in her stomach to stop. After the first few gulps, the blood just tasted warm and fulfilling. The blood rushed against her teeth, her gums, spurting into her body.
She sucked hungrily, stopping only when the woman's body went limp in her arms and her heartbeat ceased. She wiped her mouth and looked down at the woman's still body, but she couldn't even bring herself to feel guilty, not like what she felt at Eichen House when the Mountain Ash undid the blood-induced high.
She stood over the woman for a little while longer, just staring, until the sound of a twig snapping echoed loudly through the cemetery. It had been so silent, that the sound could've been mistaken for a bolder splitting. Carter, like lightning, whirled around to see Theo emerge from the tree-line with a horrified expression on his face.
And there it was. The guilt. Just seeing his face had been enough for it all to come rushing in. Tears immediately filled her eyes as she took a step closer to the woman's crumpled up form. She didn't move, and she wasn't breathing.
A spasm rocked through Carter's body, and a scream, blistered with grief, ripped from her lungs. The sound of birds crashing through the trees, startled by the shrill sound, fell deaf on her ears. She fell to her knees at that exact moment. She was mentally screaming for help—wanting nothing more than to have an ambulance come and revive the woman. But, she didn't move, and deep inside, Carter knew why. Nothing could help now. It was over. She killed someone. Black spots swam before her eyes; the cemetery tilted and swayed. She stared at the nameless woman, stared at her lifeless body.
She could hear her breathing get faster, but she couldn't control it as she started to gasp. Carter couldn't process properly. Her concentration ripped to shreds by the guilt. She rested her head in her hands, still staring. Heart in her throat as she breathlessly cried. She felt the grief and pain explode through her chest, piercing it—agonizing like the hit of a bullet.
"No, no, no!" Carter shouted, her chest aching as she held her stomach and cried out. "You can't be—You can't be dead—" she pressed against the woman's neck, praying that she would find a pulse. She didn't.
Carter grabbed the woman, pulled her into her arms, ignoring the frozen look of death on the woman's face. Ignoring the warm blood covering almost every inch of her.
"No!" Carter shouted, sadness consuming him. "No!"
She gripped onto her tightly, beginning to rock them back and forth in a soothing way; but the wailing refused to cease.
"Carter." Theo called out, approaching her. "It's okay."
"No, no, no." Carter said quickly, standing up away from the body. "It's not okay, what have I done?" She ran her fingers through her hair in disbelief as all the horrible things she did came rushing to the surface. "What did I do? I almost killed him. Stiles—I almost—I attacked Erik. I just—no, no!" She pushed Theo away from her as he tried reach out to her. "This woman. I actually killed her."
"Hey, hey," Theo tried to grab her again but she pushed him away.
"No!" Carter shouted through the tears. "I killed her, Theo!"
Overwhelmed by the grief exploding in her chest, her knees buckled as a spasm of pain shot through her body. She placed her hands on Theo's broad chest for support, feeling the soft texture of his shirt beneath her palms. A moment later, she lost her ability to stand and fell. She crumpled down in anguish, Theo wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close and fell down with her.
"You're gonna be all right. You're Carter Hale, you can get through this."
She began to cry harder. "No, I can't. I can't."
"Carter, just let it all in. That's the only way you'll be able to get a grip on it." Theo instructed. Carter stopped sobbing as her expression softened and he nodded in approval. "That's good. Just breathe it all in." He continued as she stared into his eyes.
"AHHH!" Carter yelled out in anguish, but they quickly died into sobs as she pulled at the roots of her hair. She panted, gripping the sides of her head as it pounded; it felt as though her brain was trying to hammer its way out of her skull.
They sat in silence for a long while, along Carter to gather her bearings.
Theo grabbed her hands softly. "Do you think you'll be okay?"
Carter shook her head slowly. "I haven't been okay in a long time."
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ive been anxiously waiting to write the chapter where theo and carter meet...and HERE IT IS! i wanted to do something different with their interactions/friendship bc all of the stiles fanfics that ive read, stiles love interest always agrees with stiles and hates theo, so i decided to do just the opposite bc i love drama. and i know that carter isn't going to be affected by the book bc she's scared of the dread doctors and wants to do everything in her power to keep those horrible memories locked away.
well, i hope you all liked this chapter. let me know what you thought and what you think will happen when carter is confronted by raeven and the dread doctors.