Work Text:
Laura freezes when the gun goes off, a scream trapped behind her teeth. She looks at Derek as he flinches backward, the scent of blood ripping through the concrete room.
Kate goes to her knees, blood blossoming on her shirt over her chest. Laura spins, and John has his gun held aloft.
There’s no witty rejoinder or last remark; Kate hits the ground, dead. Her heart slows, gives one last, feeble beat, then stops. Laura shakes her head when John moves to check her pulse.
Parrish and the other deputy - Laura thinks her name is Tara - come running at the sound of the gunshot, appearing at the door behind Derek with guns held aloft. Derek snarls, wolfing out as he yanks his arms free of the restraints.
“It's okay, it's okay!” Laura says, holding up her hands. “They’re with us!”
Tara falters at seeing Derek’s face. Jordan’s heart rate kicks up a notch, but he holsters his gun at John’s go ahead, opening the door and sliding across the floor to get to Deputy Sacks.
Laura takes that as permission to scramble over to Derek. Her hands flutter around the pink skin on his abdomen where the leads connected, down to the bruised skin at his wrists, healing before her eyes.
“I’m fine,” he says, monotone, lying, backing away when Laura tries to reel him in for a hug. She slowly lowers her arms.
Deputy Sacks groans as Parrish palpates his ribs.
“Could y’do tha any harder? S’ not like m’ ribs’re broke.”
“He’ll be fine,” Jordan says, sliding his hand to the back of his head, careful not to jostle him even an inch. “Needs to be checked out for internal bleeding, and he probably has a concussion.”
“Stop talkin’ bout me like m’not here,” he grumbles, and Tara snorts, shaking her head.
“I’ll go tell the guys upstairs to send down the medics.” She pauses. “And a body bag.”
“Good fuckin’ riddance,” Deputy Sacks mutters, and Laura goes to her knees at Jordan’s side.
“I can help,” she says, slipping her hand alongside Jordan’s on the deputy’s skin against his ribcage. Jordan’s brow furrows when dark lines crawl up Laura’s arm, veins turning black as she pulls as much of Deputy Sack's pain as she can stand.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking his pain,” she says, shutting her eyes when the pain bites at her arms.
Jordan inhales, sharp and shocked. “You’re healing him?”
“If I was healing him, I would have just said so.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m taking his pain away. He still needs to see a doctor.” Her veins fade as she pulls away, green and blue standing out against her pale skin. “Does that help?”
Deputy Sacks breathes deep, wincing on an exhale. “Yeah. Sure does.”
Laura chuckles. She stands as several ambulances worth of EMTs filter in, crowding the tiny room. Jordan leaves, presumably to give them more room.
The medics insist on examining Derek. He sits silent, back ram-rod straight, letting them poke and prod until they’re satisfied he’s well enough to not need a hospital visit.
The sun has risen by the time they get back aboveground, turning the sky shades of orange and gold. Jordan reappears with a plain black t-shirt from the trunk of his car, handing it off to Derek.
He pulls it on with a nod of thanks. John ushers them into his squad car, and Laura sits in the back with Derek at her side. He jerks away when she tries to wrap her arm around his shoulders.
The moment they get back to the station, pandemonium erupts. Several deputies do their level best to hold back the tide of onlookers; Laura catches at least one reporter among the throng.
“Vultures,” she sneers, shielding Derek with her body as they hurry inside. They follow John into his office. He shuts the door. Derek drops into one of the chairs.
“You know what I’m going to ask you,” the sheriff says, and Derek nods, twisting his hands in his lap.
Laura resists the urge to growl. “John, do we have to do this now?”
“It’s okay," Derek says, lying through his teeth.
He takes a deep breath and tells them everything. How Kate started hanging around the school after basketball practice, paying him more attention than anyone else, then kissed him one day in the empty locker room. He thought nothing of it when she asked him to keep their relationship a secret; she was an older woman dating a teenager. Of course she wouldn’t want anyone else to know.
Things went further, physically, than he anticipated, but she kept telling him that it was okay, because they loved each other. He kept a spare set of clothes hidden in the preserve and made sure to shower before he came home to hide her scent. Laura balls her hands into fists to keep her anger at bay. Derek cringes away.
"I asked her why she wanted to know so much about my family, and she said she wanted to meet them someday. I mentioned that everyone would be home on a Friday. That they were pack nights. I wanted to bring her along. She said yes. Then--" He breaks off, mouth moving around words that won't come out.
Then, the house burned down.
“It's my fault,” he whispers, and John cuts in before Laura can get a single word out.
“No. No.” He sits down on the edge of the desk in front of her brother. “Derek, you were sixteen. You didn’t know any better.”
“I should have.”
“She took advantage of you. None of this is your fault.”
Someone knocks on the door, and Tara pokes her head inside.
“Sorry, boss, I don’t mean to interrupt, but there’s something outside you need to take care of.”
John sighs, pushing off of the desk and squeezing Derek’s shoulder on the way out. He shuts the door at his back.
“Hey,” Laura says, sitting in the seat beside her brother. She drags her fingers through his hair, and he closes his eyes.
“You’ve been holding onto this alone - all this time,” she says softly, heart shattering to pieces when Derek nods.
He risks a quick glance at her face before dropping his eyes to his hands again. “Do you forgive me?” he asks, and Laura takes a deep breath, choking back tears. Derek doesn’t need to see her cry.
“No, I don’t.” He curls in on himself even further, eyes clenched shut. She tilts his chin up and waits until she can hold his hesitant, heartbroken gaze. “Because there isn’t anything to forgive.”
Derek shakes his head. “C’mere,” she says, tugging him into her arms. She presses her face into his neck, inhaling his scent, dampened somewhat by Jordan’s shirt.
Chris Argent breaks the moment, storming into the middle of the station and screaming at the sheriff.
“Stay here,” she murmurs to Derek, pressing her hand to the back of his neck as she stands, heart aching when he leans into the touch.
“My daughter is missing, my sister is dead," Chris says as she opens the door, "and I know you have something to do with both. I demand to know what the hell is going on.”
He glances up when Laura walks out, pointing a finger. “You. I swear to god, if you so much as put a finger on my daughter—“
“You’ll what?” Laura closes in on Chris, whose eyes burn with rage. Derek creeps out of the office. The silence in the station rings like a death knell, everyone holding their breath. “Burn me alive?”
“You little--”
She flashes her eyes, just quick enough for Chris to see. “You really wanna do this here?”
The power of Chris’ glare could level cities. Laura turns tail and heads to the back of the station, to an empty office that doubles as an interrogation room.
Chris follows Derek inside and slams the door. “Where the hell is my daughter?”
Laura leans back against the wall, keeping Argent in her sights. “Safe.”
“And I should take your word for it?”
“I’m not the one who murders innocent children.”
“Don’t tell me you still believe we set the fire.” The condescension in his voice makes her want to slap him in his arrogant face.
She goes for the gut punch. “Why don’t you ask Allison?”
Chris traps her against the wall, hands on either side of her shoulders. “Don’t you dare drag my daughter into this.”
Derek growls and lunges. Laura shoves him back and slams Chris against the opposite wall, hard enough that the panels rattle. “I didn’t, you stupid son of a bitch! Your sister did.”
“Dad!” Allison says, throwing the door open. Laura steps out of the way, going to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Derek, while Allison flies across the room to hug her father. Tear tracks stand out against her cheeks.
Stiles, Scott, and Melissa file in, silent.
“What the hell are they doing here?” Chris says, ignoring his daughter’s plea to please, calm down.
“We’re witnesses,” Stiles spits out, folding his arms when his father shoots him a warning stare. Derek blinks.
"Go ahead, Allison," Laura says, failing to hide the venom in her voice. "Tell him what you told me."
Allison spins the same tale she told in John’s living room without missing a single detail. Derek backs into Laura's side. She slips her hand around his wrist, gliding her thumb against his skin.
Scott and Stiles confirm they heard the whole thing.
“It was Kate, Dad,” she says when she finishes. “It was her the whole time.”
“No.” Chris shakes his head. “She wouldn’t.”
Laura scoffs, infuriated by his insistent denial. “Apparently, she would."
“We have a code.”
Stiles pushes away from the wall, stopping only when John shoots out his hand, gripping his son's arm. "Oh, and I guess no one ever breaks it?"
“No.”
He barks a laugh, not an ounce of fear in his scent. “Give me a fucking break.”
“Stiles!”
"No!" Stiles rips out of his father's grasp. "Your sister kidnapped Derek tonight. She tried to recruit your daughter for her little hunter's club, and when that backfired, she got herself killed. I'd ask the rest of her crew if she set the fire, but Peter Hale already tore their throats out, so you're just going to have to grow a pair and deal with it."
Derek stares, eyes wide. Laura is impressed against her better judgment. Befriending werewolves and threatening hunters. This kid is full of surprises, and a serious lack of self-preservation instincts.
Chris slams his hand against the table, no doubt to keep from strangling the sheriff's son. “Am I under arrest?”
“No," John says, only just managing to hide a smile. Melissa exudes pride from her pores. "But until I can prove you didn’t have anything to do with this, don’t leave town.”
Chris leaves without another word. Allison shoots Laura an apologetic smile, kisses Scott on the cheek, and follows.
To no one’s surprise, Stiles breaks the stifling silence. “Don’t leave town. Bet you’ve waited your whole career to say that.”
Laura bites her knuckles to keep from laughing. Scott pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. Melissa glares.
Derek and John both slap at the back of his head.
--
Sheriff Stilinski re-opening the case about the Hale House fire makes headlines.
The news of Kate's involvement turns the Argents into social pariahs overnight. All anyone in Beacon Hills can talk about is how Allison was the one to find Derek, how she was probably involved somehow.
"She keeps saying she's fine," Scott says over dinner, reeking of teen angst and misery. "She isn't though."
The cogs in Laura's head turn. Derek's head snaps up. "Don't do it."
Laura shrugs, digging into her burger. "Do what?"
"Whatever terrible idea just popped into your head."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she says between bites. Melissa chides her for talking with her mouth full.
She waits for Allison at school the next day, making a dramatic show of saying hello, smile so cheerful, it borders on manic. She waves Allison into the car, peeling away from the curb as soon as the other girl buckles her seatbelt.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Allison says.
Laura looks away from the road and slides her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose. “Yes, I did.”
Allison offers her a timid smile that fades when they arrive at her house to see her mother waiting outside. Laura hasn't experienced the pleasure of meeting the formidable Victoria Argent.
The moment Laura parks in the driveway, she appears at the window. “I don’t think I need to tell you that if anything happens to my daughter on your watch, I will destroy everyone you hold dear.”
"Mom!" Allison says, horrified.
Laura takes off her sunglasses, tossing them into the back seat. “And I hope you know that if your family so much as breathes wrong around mine, I’ll shove my claws through your chest and rip your heart out.”
"As long as we understand each other."
Laura nods. Allison gets out of the car. Victoria pivots on her heel in one smooth motion, and Laura gets the feeling she passed some sort of test.
Derek spends days holed up in the Stilinski's guest room until Stiles forces him out, dragging him to Scott's house to play video games, and his father to buy them pizza.
“He slumps in his seat, acting grumpy and disinterested,” Melissa says, pouring herself a glass of wine; she left under threat of testosterone poisoning. “But he smirked when he kicked both of their asses at Mario Kart.”
Laura laughs until she cries, and then she cries, huge sobs that wrack her body, cleaving her chest in pieces. She grieves for Peter, for her brother's lost innocence. She feels like she's losing her family all over again.
Melissa holds her while she cries, petting her hair without saying a word.
John manages to tie Laura's attack in the woods and the murder of her uncle and the other hikers to Kate, all of whom could be traced back to the fire. After weeks of waiting, Peter’s body is finally released. They lay him to rest on a full moon with the rest of their family, beneath a wreath of wolfsbane.
After, Laura doesn’t speak, strips her clothes and lets the moon brush against her skin before shifting straight to fur. She rubs herself against Derek’s legs and takes off through the trees.
The two of them run the way they haven’t in years, up and down familiar trails, laying claim to territory that has always been theirs.
She swears she can hear her mother howling, feel her pack in her head, in her heart, all around.
It feels like coming home.