Chapter Text
Derek is staring. He knows he is staring, but he cannot stop it.
She is looking the exact same, only nine years older. She even smells the exact same. Her dark brown hair is side-braided and it is longer than she usually kept it. She is wearing a green plaid shirt and dark jeans. Her heavy tan boots are dirty and worn-looking. Her face is make-up free, as always, but still gorgeous. Her warm honey eyes are fixed on Stiles right now.
She is glaring.
“I am not an impostor.” She says tightly, in a voice that is definitely Vi. “I know my name. I may not remember anything else, but that is what everybody called me since the time I can remember.”
“Well, excuse us for not taking your words at face value.” Stiles says. His face is serious and he has his arms folded on his chest. “You cannot just waltz back into our house claiming to be my sister after disappearing for nine fucking years and expect us to believe you.”
“Then don’t.” Her eyes flash, not wolf-like, but in human anger. Right there is a brief flash of old, defiant Vi, the one who had a temper and was never afraid to show it, even though surrounded by werewolves and hostile humans. The sheriff has one placed lightly over his holster, ready to take out his gun in a moment’s notice and Stiles has a taser on him. Derek knows from experience that he has his service revolver and his trusty crossbow tucked in somewhere close.
“You know, I would drop the attitude, if I were you.” Stiles’ voice has gone quiet and it is then that he is the most dangerous. Stiles is a flaily, clumsy human being. Well, at least he used to be. Nearly a decade of fighting the supernatural, he is a hard-ass now, if not at par with hunters, at least far more capable than an ordinary civilian to handle himself against a werewolf. Also, he takes his job as a deputy under his dad very seriously and maintains a punishing fitness regime.
“You are outnumbered, outgunned.” Stiles smirks at her, letting her know it has not escaped his attention there is a gun sticking out from the waistband of her jeans under her plaid shirt, nestling against her spine.
Derek doesn’t know what to make of her. Not when his emotions are all over the place and being a wolf, even as an omega by the smell of her (for he cannot smell any other wolf on her, thank God, for he doesn’t know if he could restrain himself if he did), Vi or the girl who looks like Vi should be able to sift through them easily.
But there is one thing he knows with a blazing clarity.
He is the alpha.
It is not insane pride bursting at seams, it is not hubris, it is not about power at all – it is something that humbles him, anchors him instead of anger that used to anchor him in the first flush of his wasted youth. People confide in him, look up to him, depend upon him and he cannot let them down. Not this time, not ever.
He is a father.
And it is a miracle. He is still in awe of the life that he helped procreate and to see that life blossoming into this beautiful wildflower is something that will always remind him no matter what shitty decisions he took in his life, no matter how grave all his mistakes were (are), there is one thing he did right.
So what if his heart is breaking audibly inside him. So what if he is feeling like a scared kid again, returning to Beacon Hills only to discover his dead sister. He will play his part to keep up the appearances.
He stands, mirroring Stiles’ stance, arms crossed over his chest, exuding power and authority. His face remains stony though he is this close to breaking down. He remains unmoved even though all he wants is to throw his arms around the girl whom he has loved since he barely knew what love was and to bury his nose in her hair, gulping down her scent like a drowning man.
No, can’t do. She is a threat until proven otherwise and he will repeat it like a mantra in his head.
Derek takes a sharp breath and feels a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He knows it is Scott, who is, as always standing just one step behind him. His second in command has always been sensitive to the distress of others and especially of his alpha. Derek unclenches his fist and feels his palm healing from the claw wounds. He hasn’t even realised he has dug them into his flesh. He shakes his head at himself inwardly.
Put it together Hale.
“What can you remember?” He asks in a carefully neutral voice. It is too late to take back the flood of emotions that has hit him on seeing her, sitting on her favourite kitchen stool. Now there is no way to reverse it. The only way is to go forward. So Derek will do that. Slam a brake on his internal freak out and deal with it.
Vi’s head snaps to him. There is no recognition in the brown eyes. He doesn’t expect it for the sheriff has already explained she is suffering from amnesia. She cannot remember her past life. That her coming to Beacon Hills and finding a scent-trail that is startlingly similar to her own has been purely co-incidental (it belongs to Alexa’s but Derek doesn’t comment on it) and that she has been drawn to the house by the scent that is overwhelmingly familiar, including her own.
Derek has been explained all of these, but it fucking hurts. To have Vi look at him with this much blankness.
Focus, he rebukes himself.
“You said you cannot remember your life here at Beacon Hills.” Derek goes on in the same stern voice. “But what do you remember?”
“I remember the hospital.” Vi says. “I was pretty banged up. They said it was a car crash, but I was not so sure because I had my toes crushed and one of my ears and the ring finger of my left hand were missing. What sort of a car accident does that?”
Derek clenches his fists again and he knows his eyes are bleeding red, but he cannot stop it. Somebody hurt her badly, tortured her more likely, and she is describing it with such nonchalance that it is a regular occurrence.
“Which hospital?” Stiles asks. His voice does not shake, but his scent has gone sharp with worry and rage. Derek is just grateful at least one between the two is keeping a level head. He takes a glance towards he sheriff who looks like he has aged ten years since he has last seen him, which was only yesterday. Derek feels guilty for dragging both his children into his world and making the good man carry a burden which was not meant for him.
“Captain William Jackman Memorial.”
“Fucking Labrador City?” Stiles pipes up.
Nobody questions how Stiles knows it. He is a fountainhead of random titbits like that.
“Canada?” Scott asks this time, surprise colouring his tone. Then he meets Derek’s glance.
Both are thinking along the same line. Probably this is why they couldn’t trace her because whoever took her skipped a fucking country.
“What happened after that? How did you know your name?” Derek asks tightly.
“Well, this man called Baldwin sprang me from the hospital. Before people could realise I was healing unusually fast.” Vi smirks. “It should have been awkward to explain an ear and a finger growing back on their own.”
Derek frowns because that was not the way Vi smiled.
“He explained my name is Wiga Stilinski and that I am an orphan.”
A sharp intake of breath from almost everybody makes her hesitate a bit.
“Go on.” Stiles gestures with his hand, recovering first.
“He said there is an organisation which protects the supernatural from public knowledge for otherwise we would be hunted down by humans. He took me to their headquarter deep inside the forest. Baldwin said humans outside the organisation had no knowledge of it and so I would be protected forever.”
“And you trusted him?” Derek knew his anger was completely misplaced, but he couldn’t help it. If the stranger (who looks like Vi) is to be believed, Vi has been alive all along and they failed to locate her, to rescue her, to protect her, in short they failed her in every manner possible.
“What else could I do?” Vi challenged. “I had no identity. No friends. No money. Even the clothes I wore when I got released from the hospital were borrowed because my own were apparently too bloody and torn to shreds.”
Scott’s hand on his shoulder digs deeper into his flesh for Derek has started to take an involuntary step forward. He grits his teeth and makes himself stand still, grateful for the compassion of his pack-mates which he hardly deserves. He knows intellectually that it has been nine years and Vi has healed, but he still wants to check her for injuries, to draw her pain away if necessary, to enfold her into his chest and never, ever let her out of his sight.
“Ok, so you trusted a stranger and you went to their headquarter with him.” Scott, thankfully takes over the interrogation. “How come the place is so well hidden? If a shelter for werewolves really does exist, we should have heard about it by now.” He looks at Derek for confirmation who shakes his head indicating he has no knowledge of it.
“It was...is not a shelter.” Vi says and her voice is grim. “It is an underground bunker.”
“Still, I have a hard time to believe that no random hiker or police or the forest guards haven’t discovered it so far.”
“There are trees and all on top of it. You won’t even know it is there if you don’t know what to look for.”
“If that is not something right out of a cheesy thriller.” Stiles mutters.
“Stiles, our entire life is a cheesy thriller.” Jason comments mildly. “Werewolves, remember?”
“There is that.” Stiles agrees.
“What did he want with you?” Derek asks, recovering from his momentary stupor. “The Baldwin guy.”
“He put me to work.” Vi shrugs again, not meeting any of their eyes.
Derek feels his blood freeze inside his veins and then it starts boiling.
“What sort of work.” His voice is clipped, measured. He wonders how.
“I cannot tell you that.” Vi says flatly.
“Excuse me?” Stiles raises one eyebrow. “Who says you have a choice. You have to come clean if you want us to believe you.”
“You are better off not knowing.” Vi says and again her voice betrays no emotion. Suddenly, Derek knows what is nagging him from the first moment he has entered the room and his senses has locked on her. Vi has always been like an open book to him. That is something he loved about Vi, the way she wore her heart upon her sleeve. This Vi, is either as emotionless as a cyborg or is extremely adept at keeping her emotions hidden.
“Ok, why did you listen to him.” It is Jason this time, trying another line of questioning. “You must have discovered you are powerful than humans. Why didn’t you leave?”
“And go where?” Vi asks, spreading her hands. “I knew the world out there was, well, is dangerous for our kind. I couldn’t remember anything about myself. I didn’t know a single person. I didn’t even know if Baldwin was telling the truth, but at least they didn’t try to do anything funny with me at the facility. They fed me and sheltered me. They protected me form the dangers the outside world posed to our kind.”
“If you don’t remember anything how do you know about the dangers?”
“I was amnesiac, not brain damaged.” Vi rolls her eyes, the first gesture that is not entirely robotic. “I told you I realised somebody did a number on me before I was in an accident and landed up in that hospital. Also, the werewolves I met the facility, each of them had one horror story to tell which re-inforced my belief.”
“So you just became their hand puppet instead?” Stiles asks, blithely ignoring the exasperated stares from both Jason and Scott.
“Yes I did. So what?” Vi meets his brother’s eyes defiantly. “I don’t remember you giving a fuck one way or the other when I was getting tortured God knows for how long.”
Stiles doesn’t quite flinch, but he looks contrite, for a second, before he schools his expression into irritated again.
“For your information we scoured the entire coutry to find you.”
“Evidently not enough.” Vi snarls.
“People,” Jason steps between the siblings before Scott can move in. “I thinks emotions are flying a little bit too high at the moment for all of us have been through a lot, especially your immediate family.”
“I don’t have a family.”
“You do.” Jason says sternly. “A family who loves you and never wanted to stop looking for you.”
“But they did, eventually.”
“They had their reasons.” Stiles retorts.
“We should all take a step back.” Jason looks at Stiles pointedly. “And sleep on it. Perhaps. I am sure we have a lot to discuss. But let us make it tomorrow, ok?”
“You must be tired.” The sheriff finally speaks up. Derek should hand it to him. He sounds like he is mildly concerned and not like the sight of his daughter whom he took for dead is breaking whatever part inside him is left to be broken.
“Why don’t I set you up in your old room.” He suggests.
“I think she should stay in a hotel until we are sure about her identity.” Stiles frowns.
Derek hates to be in agreement with him.
“I will stay here with John.” Jason offers. “If it eases your mind.”
“Me too.” Scott steps up.
“Me three.” Malia smiles at Stiles. “In fact we all can stay here and make sure she doesn’t go berserk on your dad at night. Or something.”
“Except for Derek of course.” Jason says throwing a glance towards Derek. “He needs to be elsewhere.”
Of course Derek needs to be with Alexa. That is his primary duty. To protect his daughter. Especially now when it is not sure if the newcomer is a threat or not. He has to keep his daughter away from Vi and Jason understands it instinctively. Sometimes Derek seriously considers handing over his alpha mantle to Jason. The eighteen year old boy who came to Beacon Hills ten years back to learn from the resident alpha has come a long way since then. He doesn’t know how his cousin, seven years his younger, can be sweet and solicitous, yet fiercely protective and judicious at the same time. Scott may be his unofficial second in command and Derek defers to his judgement more often than not, but Jason is more of a heart of the pack, while Stiles and Lydia are the brains. It is Jason whose moral compass has kept them steady over the years who has helped him tide over some of the toughest decisions he had to take in the past. A role, that should have fallen naturally to Vi for she used to be like that – sweet and gentle and wise beyond her age, yet loyal to the core and willing to give and take life if the people she cared for was in danger.
A sigh escapes him before he can stop himself.
“Ok, so I guess we wrap up this pleasant re-union party.” Stiles rubs his hands together. “Gosh, it is such a long time we had a sleep-over. Actually, come to think of it we never did and I blame Derek.”
“What did I do?” Derek raised an eyebrow at him, grateful for the turn the conversation has taken.
“Because for a born werewolf belonging to a large family, you were strangely averse to the idea of a puppy pile.”
“The way I remember it your description of the entire thing was kind of R-rated. It was never something as innocent as a puppy pile.”
“Dude,” Stiles smacks Derek on the chest. “Bro-code. You had to say that in front of my dad. What is wrong with you?”
“Stiles, I am fully aware of the way your mind works.” The sheriff says with an amused huff.
“You all have a dirty mind.” Stiles points a finger towards his dad. “Take them off the gutter. I will have you know that my mind is pure as driven snow.”
“Babe,” Jason puts a hand on Stiles’ arm and makes a face like he is delivering a bad news, “it is really, really not.”
Malia simply snorts whereas Derek and the sheriff roll their eyes in unison.
“What are you staring at?” Stiles suddenly snaps at Vi.
“You are supposed to be my twin brother.” Vi says flatly.
The sheriff has filled her in about her immediate family, that is about Stiles and himself. He hasn’t yet broken the facts that she is married or that Derek is her husband and especially that she has a daughter with him. When Derek makes no move to disclose it either, the sheriff hasn’t bothered to enlighten her. He knows Derek has his reason to be cautious.
This is the first time though that she acknowledges their kinship, but it comes out more as an insult than anything else.
“Yeah, what of that?” Stiles bristles at her tone.
“Dad apparently forgot to tell me you are an idiot.”
“Please don’t insult my son in his own house.” The sheriff says mildly, even though his lips are drawn tight in the corners. Derek knows why. It is because the word dad from her didn’t seem natural. It seems like she is reading out from a script and it is a foreign word to her.
“How can you not know we are not actually wild animals?” Vi goes on with a bare flick of eyes to the sheriff. “Our nature or behaviour doesn’t even remotely resemble to that of the actual wolves no matter what you may have learnt from the shitty porn sites you no doubt are in the habit of browsing.”
Stiles looks like he is going to punch her in the face. He probably would have if Jason has not held him back. He is even more outraged, Derek realises, for it is partly true. Stiles does indeed browse through a lot of weird werewolf stuff which can be classified as soft to hardcore porn. Derek has been subjected to a few glimpses when he has arrived at Stiles’ room unannounced and he has been a second too late to minimise the windows. But then Stiles has always been a guy who is too curious for his own good. It comes really handy when he does various researches for them or translates books on magic and supernatural. He attacks the issue of sex with the same zeal. When he started dating Jason, Derek was flooded with a boatload of questions from Stiles regarding stuff he never thought he would have to explain to another person after his cousin when he started dating a human so many years back. He couldn’t ask it to Scott for some reason (Dude, you must understand it is awkward. I mean, we are practically brothers from different mothers. Be a bro and help out a guy, ok?) Some of the questions gave Derek nightmares for a few days to come. He had a hard time to make Stiles believe that no, there is no anatomical part that a male werewolf magically grows during, before or after sex and that it is all a myth (a highly disturbing one) and that sex is basically the same for both species except for the strength and heightened senses which makes the whole experience a lot more overwhelming and intense for a werewolf.
Those were fun days. With Vi teasing Stiles mercilessly about his huge and instant crush on Jason and Jason’s equally massive crush on Stiles, but being even more reserved than Derek (if such a thing was possible) the latter holding back from any impulsive declaration and both tiptoeing around each other and being stiltedly civil, until the entire pack threatened to intervene and forced Derek to have a heart to heart talk with both of them. Derek still shuddered to think of the day for he felt like a marriage counsellor, drawing out confessions from both the guys. He remembered how Stiles was bitingly sarcastic, more of an asshole than usual, but thankfully Derek knew it was his gnawing insecurities. Jason was an even harder nut to crack. Derek didn’t know Jason as well as he knew Stiles, but he could see himself in Jason and it helped. Haltingly and painfully (at a time it felt like Derek was pulling out his tooth) the quiet and shy teen had confessed he was attracted to Stiles. Very much so. But that he couldn’t bring himself to ask him out for he suffered from depression and he was socially awkward and that Stiles was popular, funny and insanely smart. He thought Stiles would flirt around with him until he eventually got bored and he would be left to pick up the pieces of his heart.
Needless to say it worked out at last and nobody was happier for them more than Vi, though it didn’t make her drop the teasing.
Derek sometimes marvels how Jason turns out to be the quietly confident person he is right now once he started to come out of his shell and he can proudly say his relationship with Stiles helped to shape him. Stiles has changed too. He has become more grounded, more sensitive to the feelings of other people. Stiles is an amazing human being, but even Scott admits how callous he can become at times. Jason polished his rough edges, made him shine like a diamond with his sharp intellect and blinding wit.
But there are times, he regresses back to the teenage Stiles. Under high-stress situation, like right now!
“Alright guys.” Derek hollers, deciding it is time to step up to his assigned role, even if a tad bit late. “Let us just go our respective ways for the day. If Scott and Malia can take the day off your clinic –”
“Done and done.” Scott answers on behalf of Malia. He is technically Malia’s boss for he is the veterinarian and Malia is his assistant, but God forbid somebody trying to boss Malia around! This time though she has no problem letting Scott speak on her behalf.
“Ok, but no more interrogation.” Derek points a finger at Malia, who looks very disappointed. “We will have a pack meeting first thing tomorrow morning. We can discuss everything there. I will see if Deaton can come down from San Francisco at such a short notice.”
“What about Jason and I?”
“Jason has already said he will be here, but you will make yourself scarce.” Derek says letting a little bit of sternness seeping into his voice.
“No.” Stiles plants his feet apart and crosses his arms again. “There is no way I am going to leave my father and my boyfriend and my almost-brother with an unknown entity and run off to hide.”
If Vi takes offence to the term unknown entity, she doesn’t let it show.
Derek pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels the onset of a headache. He should have known Stiles will be difficult and he will not let himself be dragged away from a possible danger when the possible danger maybe his long-lost twin sister.
“Stiles, please.” He tries to rein in his impatience. He tries to convey a lot of things into the two words.
You are a human and your safety comes before others with supernatural healing power.
You are important to the pack and you cannot make stupid decisions.
You are my friend and I cannot see you hurt for I have lost enough people and don’t want to add you to that list.
Derek doesn’t say any of these aloud, but he hopes Stiles gets the gist of it anyway.
Stiles stares at him long and hard.
“Ok.” He finally concedes, “but, we are going to have a talk later about this bullshit stuff about human pack members and all. Dad is a human too and it seems you don’t give two hoots about that.”
“Stiles!” Jason exclaims.
“It is ok Jason.” Derek says, a bit coldly. He knows Stiles has a habit to lash out when he cannot have his way, but he should remember to hold himself back in front of a virtual stranger. But when has Stiles ever held himself back even for his own benefit. This time though, he cannot just roll his eyes and ignore it. He has to assert his authority quickly and brutally.
“It doesn’t matter what Stiles thinks. Right now we need to get our guest settle down.” Derek cuts his eyes to Vi who has been looking at them with a curious expression on her face. “Do you need clothes or anything? I think John still has a lot of Vi’s stuff.”
“I am good, thanks.” Vi says and nudges a dusty duffel bag resting on the floor with her booted foot. “Will kill for some decent food though.”
Derek pauses for her heart doesn’t skip at all over the sentence. Even though spoken in jest, it should trigger an enhanced heart-beat over the exaggerated lie.
“I will order some pizzas. With mushrooms and black olives, just as you liked.” The sheriff says immediately.
Vi frowns. “I never had that topping.”
The sheriff skirts around the dining table and is about to clap Vi on the back before thinking better of it.
“Then all the reason you should try it kiddo.” He smiles at her which she returns tentatively.
That is his cue to leave because Derek, contrary to popular belief, is not actually a masochist. He doesn’t like to be in pain. And it will bring nothing but pain to see even a weak shadow of her easy laughter only to be reminded of the hard facts immediately after.
Fact number one: there is no guarantee the stranger is at all Vi, similar scent and looks and voice notwithstanding.
Fact number two: there may be a spell involved which makes her an enemy.
Fact number three: even if she is Vi, she has lost her memory with no sign of recovery and there are little chances of her having any feelings for him or for Alexa for she simply cannot remember them and has gone a personality overhaul so drastic that she is hardly the same person any more.
Derek escapes from the house like it is on fire and reaches Lydia’s house at a record time. Lydia has already opened the door and waiting for him and Derek has a handful of a squealing bundle of indignation even before he has stepped onto the front porch.
“Lydia says I am going to miss out on the school picnic. Again.”
Derek makes a face at Lydia over Alexa’s head. He has clean forgotten about the beach picnic. Hell, he has been the one to suggest it at the last parent-teacher meeting. Lydia always nags him about how he doesn’t contribute to it (Derek, attending the meeting only to brood and glower at every single person trying to flirt with you doesn’t call participating. First, you should remember the latter is kind of a natural by-product of the former and second you NEED to try for her sake.).
Look where it has landed him now!
He cannot possibly let Alexa go alone without at least four supernatural bodyguards including himself and right now he doesn’t think it is wise for any of them to leave Beacon Hills even for a day.
Lydia raises an expectant eyebrow. Derek decides he absolutely hates her.
“Hello my darling daughter. Good to see you too.” Derek picks her up and delivers a kiss on each ruddy cheek of the squirming girl.
“Why can’t I go to the picnic?” She whines.
“You know what? How about that ice-cream I promised.”
Alexa heaves a put upon sigh while Lydia is silently shaking her head at him.
“Dad, you are such a disappointment. You disappoint me.”
“I know.” Derek suppresses a smile. “It keeps me awake at night.”
“No it doesn’t.” Alexa climbs down from his arms after they enter into the house. Derek flops down on the sofa and kicks his feet up on the glass-top coffee table.
“Nor do you have any manners.” Alexa pokes his thigh hard until he huffs and puts his feet down. Lydia has trained her well. In her defence it is a beautiful house that technically belongs to Lydia’s mom. She wanted Lydia to have it after getting married to an Englishman and moving to London permanently a couple of years back. Derek is forever thankful that after earning her Ph.D. from Yale Law School Lydia has chosen to return to her home town to set up a law firm here, when she could have gone places with the degree she earned.
“Are you ok?” Lydia sits down daintily on the single couch and scrutinises his face.
Derek shakes his head. No point in lying.
“Does Jordan know?” He asks.
“I gave him the shorter version.” Lydia eyes him critically. “You are going to give us the longer version later.”
Derek snorts. “Don’t tell me you haven’t called Stiles or Malia and grilled them thoroughly by now.”
Lydia gives him an overly bright fake smile. Derek is used to it and knows what it means. If it has been Stiles, he would have stuck his tongue out and Scott would have spluttered out a denial and Jason would have, well, who is he kidding, Jason would have just waited patiently until the pack meeting next day. It is not because he is obedient, but he is genuinely as much incurious as the rest of his pack is nosy.
“Dad, picnic.” Alexa pinches him on the leg to draw his attention.
Derek glances towards Lydia again, sending a silent plea for help. On principle he doesn’t like to keep secrets from his daughter, even though she is only nine years old. He has told her about her mother strictly on the need-to-know basis. It was the night before her first day at school. Derek knew she would see other kids with both their parents and would question it. He wanted to have her prepared. What he didn’t bargain for was how it was him who ended up in tears and before he knew it, his five-year-old daughter was wiping his cheeks with the sleeves of her Hello Kitty t-shirt.
God, he is such a mess. How can he even presume that he is fit to raise a daughter and why the hell does his pack allow it? It is not that they are particularly coy to point out his mistakes and none too gently either.
Lydia raises both hands in surrender, throwing him to the wolves, literally.
Fuck it all – Derek gathers his daughter close between his knees and ducks his head to look into her eyes.
“Remember all those times you ask me when you are going to grow up?”
Alexa frowns, but nods dubiously.
“I need you do a very grown up thing for me. Can you do that?”
“Not if you tell me I cannot go to the picnic and just deal with it.”
Derek sighs and feels like the worst dad in the world.
“The picnic is a no go this time and I promise this is the last time.”
“Dad!”
“Something has come up. I am sorry.”
“Something always comes up.” Alexa wails, tears threatening to spill down her eyes. “Last year it was the omega thingie. The year before that you got yourself hurt and I didn’t want to leave you. Why is it always like this?”
“I don’t know Lulu. I am so very sorry.” Derek answers helplessly, her distress clawing a hole in his chest.
“No, you are not sorry.” Alexa squirms out of his grasp. “You are not sorry at all. You love to keep me inside. Like a prisoner. I hate it. I hate you.”
“Lulu you know it is not true.” Derek gets up and tries to grab her hand, but she twists out of it and runs away. The sound of the door banging makes both of them wince. She has pretty much a free access to Lydia’s room. Derek walks to the door and finds it locked. He can break it easily. A nine-year old, especially a supernaturally endowed one, probably shouldn’t lock herself into a room in a fit of rage, but Derek has always been big on privacy. He doesn’t want her to feel suffocated at any point of time. And it seems that is what he has exactly been doing, smothering his daughter until she snaps.
He stares at the closed door, undecided and meets Lydia’s eyes who has followed close behind.
She is crying – he mouths to her.
Just talk to her – Lydia mouths back.
Derek presses his forehead against the door.
“Hey.” He begins softly. “Hey I am sorry, ok. I really am.”
The sobbing doesn’t stop. If anything it increases in volume. He looks at Lydia again who just motions to him impatiently to go on.
“I only care for...don’t cry Lulu, please. I swear I am going to make it up to you. We will go for a picnic right after this thing is over. All of us. Uncle Stiles, Jason, grandpa, Malia, Uncle Scott and everybody you know. The entire pack ok? Please just don’t cry sweetheart.”
He is so busy trying to sound sincere and truthful that he misses the soft and fond look in Lydia’s eyes.
He can hear the sobbing subsiding and it spurs him to go on.
“Remember we had such fun when we went to that fair with Stiles and Jason? Uncle Stiles won you that Cuddlekins penguin at the shooting range that you take to bed every night? We are going to have even more fun. I am talking about castles and mermaids. Have I told you I can build a mean sand castle? We used to have competitions – whose will be the best – and I always won, though we were so many of us that I have lost count. Other than Laura and Cora, there were David and Anna. They were twins like your uncle Stiles and your –”
Derek swallows hard.
“Your mom.” He whispers.
The crying has stopped altogether. Derek sinks down to the floor with his back against the door and props his elbows on his knees.
“I told you about your mom right? I told you how brave and how beautiful she was.” He pauses. “She is. The first time she came to our house, I was playing outside, with my cousins. She smelt so good. She smelt like when it rains in the sun. You know, I could never describe to anybody how...”
Lydia turns abruptly and leaves for she feels like she is intruding upon something intimate, something she is not meant to hear. She knows she doesn’t have to stand guard over Alexa now that her dad is here. She suddenly has an overwhelming desire to see Jordan even if he has kissed her goodbye not even two hours ago. Lydia closes the front door softly behind her and takes care to ease the car from the driveway as stealthily as possible because the moment seems sacred and she doesn’t want to break it.
Derek doesn’t hear her anyway.
When she comes back home with Jordan, it is late in the evening. They find Derek still sitting in the same position and Alexa fast asleep on Lydia’s bed. Lydia and Jordan takes the guest room. Derek is dragged to the room adjacent to Lydia’s and shoved on to the bed by an exasperated Lydia. The last thing he remembers is Lydia tucking the blankets around him as he is lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of his daughter’s heartbeat.
...
“Hey.”
“Are you inside the circle?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“You are in a house full of supernatural creatures with enhanced senses. Tell me one reason I should not worry?”
“I have taken precautions. I am a professional, remember?”
“A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed.”
“Will you spend the whole time lecturing me?”
“Sorry, how did it go?”
“Actually better than I expected.”
“Are you ok?”
“I am alright.”
“You can still call off the whole thing if you want to.”
“I don’t. I have promised your father.”
“Screw my father.”
Vi laughed. “Are you sure?”
“Ew, dude, gross. Don’t ever put that image in my mind.”
“You are the one who said it.”
“My bad. Just tell me you are not ok with it and I am going to get you out of there. Dad or no dad, I will not have you hurt.”
“They are not going to hurt me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because they are just a bunch of sissies playing a werewolf pack. They don’t have what it takes to end a life or even to hurt somebody. I bet they will let their worst enemies go scot-free on the condition they mend their ways.”
“They are actually known to do exactly that.”
“That only proves my point. They are weak. It is going to be a cakewalk.”
“Never underestimate your job.”
“I am just stating a fact.”
“Don’t base everything on facts. Just be careful. Finish your job and come back to us.”
“I will.” Vi smiles again. “See you soon.”
“See you.”