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It is a nightmare. It has to be one.
The thought is the only thing that keeps Derek from breaking down.
A nightmare.
All these bonds … They can’t snap like this. They can’t vanish one by one, leaving him in nothing but agony and desperation and disbelief.
No. It must be a nightmare. One of these vivid dreams you wake up from sweat-soaked and gasping, but slowly return to reality. Reality is a house full of family, the scent of breakfast in the air and familiar bickering in the hallway, because Cora dared to wake Peter too early again.
That’s reality.
This is not. It can’t be.
Derek still goes to the hospital, after they called him three times. He’s an emergency contact. When Peter insisted they all should have one, Derek didn’t see why. They are werewolves. They don’t get sick and injuries heal in the matter of minutes or maybe hours, depending on the kind of damage. If there’s anything concerning, they go to Alan Deaton, their emissary. Not to the hospital.
But he still agreed when Peter asked him to be his emergency contact. And now, he was called for the first time, not even that long after they had arranged it.
It doesn’t matter, a small voice in his mind insists. It’s just a nightmare.
Derek still walks into the ER. And suddenly, everything is white, bright and - too real. People stare at him. Sad pity in their eyes. He hears whispering about so many dead people. Children. Tragedy, he hears. A real tragedy. There’s police. A firefighter too.
Derek swallows bile down and presses his eyes shut briefly. Nightmare. Has to be a nightmare. Has to be, can’t be real, can’t be …
“Derek?”
It’s Melissa McCall. Her eyes are red rimmed. But she still gives him a small smile and puts a hand on his shoulder. A solid, warm hand. She says more, but Derek can’t really understand it. Melissa steers him towards a chair, telling him to sit down. He does.
Someone else - a faceless stranger - wraps a shock blanket around Derek’s shoulders, patting his back.
And that’s, when he truly realizes.
It’s not a nightmare.
There is a strange sound. Half a whimper, half a scream. Derek doesn’t even realize it comes out of his own throat. He slumps forward and hides his face in his hands. He wants to vanish. How is he supposed to live with this?
Melissa appears with a glass of water. She makes him drink it. It sobers him a bit.
“Your uncle asked for you,” Melissa says.
“What?” Derek asks, blinking. He feels like he is floating. His thoughts are floating too. They are getting out of reach.
“Your uncle. He’s awake. And stable. But he has some serious burns on his lower body and his legs. He also inhaled a lot of smoke. And … He seems to be a little confused about what happened.”
Derek remembers he came here because he is Peter’s emergency contact. He shakes his head, trying to catch a coherent thought. “Confused?” he asks, frowning.
Melissa nods. She looks worried. “You should go to him. Seeing you might calm him down a little.”
“Okay.” Derek gets up on wobbly legs. He grips the blanket that is still around his shoulders. It rustles.
Melissa leads him through some doors. Derek follows her, feeling like he is walking on cotton. Everything is so numb. There is a faint rushing noise in his ears.
At some point, he is standing in front of a bed and looks down at his uncle. His mind wants to tell him it’s a nightmare again. Because this, this is so surreal. Peter has always been so strong. He’s never been so still. He’s never looked so beaten.
Derek stares and flinches a little, when Melissa puts a chair in front of the bed for him, patting his back a last time before leaving the room, gently closing the door behind her.
Derek sits down. The room smells of disinfectant. It is very silent, apart from the constant beeping of the heart monitor and Peter’s breaths, that sound heavy and raspy, even though a tube seems to provide him with fresh air. Derek stares at the surreal scenery and the constant ache in his chest mingles with a feeling of nausea. All of this … It’s my fault. Derek shivers. He feels the sudden urge to jump up and run. But then, Peter stirs and his eyes flutter open.
“Derek?” he asks, his voice barely audible.
Derek swallows. “Yeah. It’s me.”
Peter hums. He turns his head on the pillow and blinks up at Derek. “Where’s Cora? Is she with you?”
Derek freezes. “Cora? I … You are the only one who got out.”
Peter tries to sit up, his face contorting in pain. “No. No, I got her out. I got Cora out. We … we have to find her!”
His last words end in frantic coughing. Derek realizes this is what Melissa meant when she said the word confused. He reaches out, putting his hand on his uncle’s shoulder and presses him back gently. “You have to rest. You’re hurt.”
Peter lets himself be pushed back but he shakes his head, insisting, “Derek I swear, I got her out. I told her to run. Told her to hide. You have to find her. Please. No one … no one else wants to listen. I’m not crazy. Not crazy.” Peter coughs again.
Derek bites his lip. He doesn’t want to tell Peter Cora can’t be alive. They told him they found Peter alone, not far away from the burning house. There was no one else …
Peter stares at him, like he can read Derek’s thoughts. “Can’t you feel her?” he pleads. “Her bond …”
Derek doesn’t want to feel for the bonds. Doesn’t want to focus on the place where they are supposed to be. This empty shell inside of him. Still pulsing in pain. But … Well, there is the pulsing of Peter’s bond, painful too, but still there.
Derek listens. Feels. Focuses. And … If he really feels for it, he thinks he can sense Cora’s bond pulsing faintly. But it might be imagination. Wishful thinking. Still. He has to try. If Peter is so certain about this …
“Where?” he asks, first hopeful, then horrific images in front of his eyes. His little sister, pulled out of her hiding place by hunters searching for survivors … “Where could she be?”
“Told her to run into the woods,” Peter mutters, his eyes falling shut. “Told her to hide. Until safe. Go … go to the house. Find her scent. Please, Derek. I can’t … My legs are useless.”
Derek reaches out and takes Peter’s hand, squeezing it. “I am going to search for her,” he promises.
Peter nods. He already seems half asleep. Derek winces, when the door opens and Melissa comes back in. “If you want to, I can get you a bed in here,” she offers.
“Thank you,” Derek says, getting up. “I have to find my sister first.”
Melissa frowns. She glances at Peter, who is sleeping and then back at Derek. “Derek … I know this is horrible, but … Noah and the other deputies, they didn’t find anyone else. They were very thorough. And they had dogs. I fear your uncle is the only survivor.”
Of course. They don’t know Cora is a werewolf. They don’t know she had to run and hide because hunters did this and were probably trying to make sure they got everyone. They don’t know. Melissa doesn’t know.
Derek clears his throat. “I am trusting my uncle. If he says, Cora is still alive, I have to check. I will come back when I’m done. If I still could have that bed then, that would be very kind.”
Melissa still looks sad, but she nods. “Of course.”
Derek mutters a thank you and leaves, both anxious and carefully hopeful.
Derek doesn’t want to see it.
Doesn’t want to see the blackened carcass of their house. But he has to. If he wants to find a trace of Cora, he has to go there.
The smell of smoke and ash is piercing. It makes him shudder before he even reaches the house. When he does, he stands in front of it, staring. He feels numb. This was the house he grew up in. So many memories …
Derek pulls himself together for the moment, closing his eyes and trying to find a scent that is not smoke or ash. There is a faint trace of Peter, ending just where the woods are about to get deeper and Derek figures that’s where the police and EMTs found him. The mingling of strange scents confirms this. Derek stays there for a moment, searching for something else in the combination of scents. Then - there it is.
Derek’s breath hitches. He can’t believe it. Yet there it is, the very faint but still existent trace of his sister’s scent. Cora .
It leads from the clearing into the woods.
Derek follows it. The trail gets thinner and fainter, when he comes to a stream and to wet grass. He feels a sudden hint of proudness. Cora did well. It’s no wonder the police didn’t find her. Now, he has to hope, the hunters didn’t either.
Two times, Derek is led into the wrong direction and has to turn around - smart girl … - the fresh air clearing his mind a little. When he approaches a big tree that’s partly ripped out of the earth - maybe because of a storm - he hears a noise.
Derek stops. He scans the surroundings, and then, he sees it. A pair of golden eyes lightening up the darkness. There, huddled under the exposed roots of the huge tree, hugging her own knees to her chest and shivering in the cold, is his little sister.
Derek tears up immediately. He crouches down, whispering, “Cora …”
She makes a choked noise and then scrambles to get to him. Derek opens his arms and she falls into them, pressing up against his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Derek,” she whimpers. “Derek …”
Derek hugs her tightly, burying his nose in her hair. “I got you. it’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay,” he rambles, closing his eyes. He can feel her bond vibrating with joy, so much stronger now. It mingles with the ache of the lost bonds.
Cora’s hair smells of smoke. Derek notices that her clothes have burn holes. But she doesn’t seem to be injured. Or her injuries were so minor, they healed.
He just holds Cora while she cries, wetting his shirt with her tears.
“Is Uncle Peter okay?” Cora asks, her voice hoarse. “He … he was hurt. He couldn’t walk anymore. And … and he told me to run, cause the hunters could still be around. I didn’t want to. Didn’t want to leave him. But he said I have to. So … I did,” tears well in her eyes again. “I abandoned him.”
“Hey, no, you did the right thing,” Derek assures her. “Peter is at the hospital. He’ll be alright with time. Let’s go there, okay?”
Cora sniffs and wipes her nose with a blackened sleeve. “Okay.”
Derek carries Cora on his back, like they did back in the past. The past … A sharp pain shoots through Derek. Everything is gone now. Their mother - Alpha - and so many others of their relatives. The pups, the humans, … Everyone. Derek can’t even imagine how it was to be inside the house. What Peter and Cora must have seen, heard and smelled. It makes his skin crawl.
Your fault, a voice inside his mind tells him.
“I want Mum,” Cora whispers into the crook of his neck and Derek’s stomach clenches painfully. “I know,” he says, putting his hand on the back of her head. “I know …”
I’m sorry …
There are no more words after. Just the wind, rustling through leaves.
Melissa’s eyes widen when Derek enters with Cora in his arms.
She reacts fast, guiding Derek to place Cora on a chair and wraps her into a blanket. She also gets a cup of steaming tea from somewhere and places it in Cora’s hands, that are pale from the cold. Cora is sipping the hot liquid gratefully while Melissa assesses her state.
“You are slightly hypothermic and have a few scratches, otherwise, you are fine,” Melissa states with a small smile. Derek doesn’t miss how her glance catches on several burn holes in Cora’s shirt but perfect, unmarked skin underneath, and he wonders what Melissa is thinking. Wonders, what she might think when she notices Peter’s burns heal faster than such wounds usually do.
But then, a lot of people have seen way more, and they did always either forget about it or thrusted it aside. It’s like Peter once said. People don’t like to be thrown out of the world they think is the real one. They don’t want the truth, they want what they are used to. Their “normality”.
After today, a lot of people will investigate the fire that killed so many. They won’t find out who did it. Derek already knows. They won’t know what to look for. They will probably either declare it an accident, or the case will eventually be set to rest. Unsolved.
Derek hates that thought. He knows exactly who set the fire. He knows why. And how.
And it is slowly killing him from the inside.
Melissa offers to put three beds into the small room, but Derek tells her two are enough. They are wolves and they need to be close now more than ever.
Cora sleeps snuggled against Peter. She passes out as soon as her face hits the pillow, completely exhausted from spending hours in the woods. Derek pulls the second bed close to theirs. He doesn’t want to risk hurting Peter, so he just takes care to touch the others with his hands.
He can’t sleep.
Instead, he stares up at the ceiling and remembers. The past dances in front of his face. Pictures. Sounds.
A full moon and joyful howls.
It hurts.
It burns.
Sometime, in the middle of the night, Peter wakes up and reaches out to take one of Derek’s hands. “It’ll be alright, pup,” he mutters, without opening his eyes and Derek doesn’t even know if he is in the now, or remembers something from the past, when Derek was younger. Peter hasn’t called him pup in years.
Derek doesn’t care. He just holds on to Peter’s hand, grateful for every little comfort he can get.
“You have to get the money from the vault,” Peter tells Derek a week later, sitting upright in bed and eating soup which he eyes with an expression of utter distaste. “If it’s still there, that is … I don’t know if the hunters knew about it.”
“Where will we go?” Cora asks quietly, from where she is sitting on the edge of the other bed, studying her bare feet.
“We will rent an apartment as soon as possible,” Peter explains. “Under a wrong name. We will recover there, until I am strong enough to start tracking these hunters.” His eyes flash red briefly. “It shouldn’t take too long, with the Alpha spark.”
The spark came to Peter one night after Derek found Cora. Peter was surprised, Derek wasn’t.
He knows the doctors and Melissa are getting suspicious. Peter’s injuries are healing too fast. A full moon is close and things will get even more suspicious. So it makes sense to leave the hospital before, without anyone noticing.
Cora growls in the back of her throat. “I want them to go through the same thing we did,” she says, clenching her hands into fists.
Peter hums, dipping his spoon back into the soup. “That and worse. But it is not going to be enough closure. You two need therapy ...”
“You too,” Derek chimes in.
Peter scowls into his bowl. “I’m fine.”
Derek shakes his head. “No you’re not. You’re screaming in your sleep. You have the Alpha spark. I don’t need to tell you what could happen, if you can’t balance your emotions.”
Peter looks sour and close to attacking with words, but to Derek’s surprise, he just nods. “Well spoken, nephew. I’ll see someone too. Tomorrow, I will contact Alpha Ito. She’ll know how to help, this isn’t the first time she sees something like this, after all.”
Cora huffs. “Where are we even going to start? We know nothing about these hunters.”
Derek swallows. He knows he has to tell them eventually. Now is as good as ever … “That’s not true,” he says quietly. “I know a name.”
Peter looks at him, surprised. “You do?”
Derek nods. “Kate Argent,” he says and Peter immediately flashes his eyes, his claws digging into the blanket. “Argent,” he hisses. “I knew they would eventually break the code! I told Talia!”
“How did she know about the tunnels?” Cora asks, frowning.
“She knew,” Derek said, his heart thundering in his chest, “because I told her.”
Stunned silence fills the room.
Derek goes on. Now that he started, he can’t seem to stop. “I … I thought she was serious. She said she’s attracted to me and asked me out. She was nice to me. She told me things … and I was stupid enough to believe them. She said partners shouldn’t have any secrets, and I … I told her what she wanted to know. I trusted her. She said it didn’t matter to her, that we are hunter and werewolf, she would throw that away for me …”
Peter closes his eyes, his expression turning from disbelieving to pained.
Derek feels close to tears. “It’s all my fault,” he breathes. “Our family … They burned because of me. What you’ve been through, your injuries, Cora having to hide in the woods for hours in the cold - it’s all my fault! I …”
“No,” Peter says, opening his eyes and looking at Derek sharply. “It isn’t your fault. You’re a victim, not the culprit, here.”
Derek blinks. “Victim?” Didn’t Peter listen to what he said?
“Yes. A victim. You are still a minor, Derek. Kate raped you,” Peter growls, eyes flashing again in his rage. “She used you. Manipulated you. It’s all her doing. Her plan. Her fault. And I’m going to rip her apart for that!”
Derek flinches back. The word rape feels like a slap in the face. “You don’t hate me?” he asks, swallowing.
Peter’s expression turns softer. “Oh pup. Of course not. Come here.” He opens his arms and Derek sinks into the embrace, pressing his face into the crook of Peter’s neck. After a moment, Cora joins in, wrapping her arm around him.
“We are going to find her,” Peter promises. “We are going to make her pay for this. We are not going to run. This is our family’s land. It’s always been our land and it always will be. We will keep it safe. That’s our task, now.”
Derek nods. He feels … lighter. It seems impossible, with everything that happened, but he does. He lost so much. But he still has Peter and Cora. Somehow, they are going to work on being as okay as they can be now.