Chapter Text
Your hand trembled, your gun heavy, your skin clammy. You could scarce believe you’d done it. You’d not shot a gun in years, but the sound of the great beast loping away to nurse its wounds was a reminder of who you’d always been, the person you hadn’t brought to your new life - you could never make the killing shot. If you were any less familiar with how a gun worked, you were sure you’d believe that the metal had burned you, but in reality that was only a phantom feeling caused by the way your boyfriend’s eyes were fixed on you, while you couldn’t bear to look at him.
“Didn’t know you could shoot.” Stiles commented, in an attempt to break the tension as he began walking again, continuing back out toward the car park for the preserve.
“Neither did I.” Derek said softly, and instantly that tension reignited with a vengeance. You said nothing, just pushed it back into the waistband of your jeans so you could wipe your palms on your thighs, then began to follow behind Stiles. There was no use discussing it now, having a fight amongst yourselves in the preseve was ill advised on a good day, but after shooting and injuring a beast that was killing people you figured it was particularly ill advised.
The walk which you knew realistically shouldn’t take more than ten minutes, given that you were walking with a set destination in mind and all three of you knew the way there, and yet it seemed to take infinitely longer. Each step was slowed by three, and briefly you thought you were watching your own body from outside it, an unsettling feeling of incoming doom seeping its way through your body and into your stomach, slowly dripping in to settle there like a boulder. The weight of your sins.
You rejoined with other pack members almost exactly ten minutes later, proving that in fact time had not been slowed, and everyone knew that something was wrong. Usually, you and Derek would walk so close together that your shoulders would brush as you went, smiling and laughing together despite the trouble that always loomed over Beacon Hills. Not this time. The two of you walked in silence, you beside Stiles and Derek a few steps behind. Scott looked between you and Stiles for an answer, Stiles shrugged and you shook your head.
“Did anyone find anything?” Liam asked to continue the conversation rather than stewing in the uncomfortable atmosphere.
“I heard a gunshot.” Malia said, looking at Chris expectantly. Which also spoke volumes - clearly you’d been the only group to find the thing.
“Not me.” He said, a single brow raised.
“Yeah, that was me.” You admitted softly, hands pushed into your front pockets so that you couldn’t fidget under their hard gazes.
“Didn’t know you could shoot.” Lydia remarked, eyes narrowed as she assessed you, as if attempting to figure you out like a tricky puzzle.
“Yeah, we’ve established that already. Nobody did.” Derek snapped, walking away from the group to head for his camaro.
“Oh, you’re in trouble.” Theo muttered with a smirk, and you just looked at the ground as you heard Derek drive away without you. There was a long beat of silence after Derek left, where nobody knew what to say to you, or what to do. Slowly, they began to part ways, with Scott making a comment about texting the group chat later. Nobody wanted to talk to you. Except one man.
Chris stepped closer and rested a hand on your shoulder, waiting as other members of the pack filed away to pile into various cars, your gun heavy in your waistband, weighing you down like the weight of the world.
“You can stay at my place while Derek cools off.” You nodded and followed him to his car, aware you wouldn’t be getting any better offers any time soon. You slipped silently into the passenger seat with no commentary, just allowing Chris to take the lead, allowing him to determine what would happen next. Most of your drive was in silence, until you came up toward the diner.
“You hungry?” Chris asked, and when you nodded, he pulled into the parking lot and gestured for you to follow him inside.
The two of you sat and browsed the menu in silent, then ordered quickly when the waitress passed by. Chris was the one to eventually break the silence.
“You gonna tell me what you’ve been keeping from everyone?” He asked, hands on the table where you could see them, no weapon in sight.
“Cards on the table? You already know.” You muttered, reaching up to rub your temple, a headache starting to form there.
“I thought so, but I wanted to confirm. Fill me in then, kid.”
So you did. You told Chris everything that you’d been hiding. You’d grown up a hunter, that was why you knew about the supernatural before arriving in Beacon Hills. You’d not hunted since turning eighteen, when you left home with nothing but a single backpack carrying a few pairs of underwear and your gun. The same gun you’d used tonight to injure whatever was hunting people out in the preserve. You’d never been good at going through with the kill. Thankfully, you’d been a good enough actor that everyone accused you of poor aim rather than deliberately missing. Chris listened intently and never interrupted, even when the drinks arrived, and then the food. When you were done, he hummed around the rim of his glass, finishing off his sweet iced tea.
“You’ve fucked up big time, kid.” He said, and you sighed.
“You don’t mince your words do you? I know I did. I kept it a secret at first cause I didn’t know if I could trust everyone, then I’d waited so long, then I found out about Kate and.. It felt way too late to come clean.” The knowledge of it had been driving you insane since you’d found out, knowing that a woman years ago had done exactly this and then killed Derek’s family. Of course, that was far from what you wanted to do, if anything you wanted to build a family with him, and yet the comparisons were easy to make. They’d come to him immediately.
“What was your plan?” Chris asked, brow raised, but not judgemental. He’d done too much wrong in his own life for that.
“I didn’t really have one. I was too busy enjoying finally being happy to figure out how the hell I was supposed to admit to my boyfriend, the guy who got groomed by a woman lying about who she was, that I’d also been lying about who I was.” You replied, covering your face with both hands as you took a few deep breaths, steadying yourself. Chris allowed it, and waited for you to be more composed before he spoke again.
“You need to tell him everything you just told me. Be honest and open and raw. It might hurt, and he might not forgive you at first, but you two are good for each other. I have faith you’ll be just fine.”
The rest of your time at the diner was spent in silence once again, more comfortable than before, and then you both returned to Chris’ place. He grabbed you some old clothes he found in a drawer, (unsure who they belonged to given all the people who’d lived with him at some point,) then led you to the guest room for some deeply needed sleep. Not that sleep came, instead you’d spent the majority of the night tossing and turning restlessly, running a hundred different scenarios through your head about where this could go next. What you could do to possibly make this better when you’d made the ultimate mistake. You’d lied and lied, digging yourself a hole that only became deeper, until you had no way out that would cause everything you’d built around you to come crashing down.
How had you ever hoped to build a life on those foundations?
When you woke to a text from Derek, simply reading the dreaded ‘we need to talk’, you knew you needed to brace yourself for a long day. You replied to let him know you could come over whenever, then dragged yourself to the shower. You stood under the warm spray, unable to help yourself from wondering if maybe you’d never deserved this new life, maybe you’d never deserved this second chance. You’d escaped hardships that you’d faced, but maybe your suffering wasn’t over. Perhaps your fate was to continue to struggle, until you couldn’t anymore, and drowned in the pain.
You stepped out of the shower after that to dry off. You splashed your face with cold water at the sink then brushed your teeth, ready to go and face the consequences of your actions. Or rather, your inaction. You were forced to dress in the clothes from the day before, with nothing else on hand, and you could only be glad you’d not gotten dirty in the preserve, only mildly sweaty.
You thanked Chris by making breakfast for the two of you, leaving it under the grill to keep warm until he emerged from his own room. You sat nursing a drink while he ate, unable to find anything to say. Just before you left, (sure to leave your gun there with Chris rather than keeping it with you, not wanting to cause Derek anymore stress,) you got a warm fatherly hug.
“You can come back here after, if he still needs his space.” Chris assured you, and you nodded and thanked him. If he hadn’t offered, you’d likely have just gotten yourself a crappy motel room. You’d hate to intrude on him, after he’d been so good to you yesterday.
The journey to Derek’s was long, traitorously long in a way it never had been before, and every step seemed to make your body feel heavier, his loft only ever seeming further and never closer, as if trapped in a nightmare where you waded through tar to a destination that didn’t really exist. There was no monster following you, unlike those dreams, instead the only monster that you could find was yourself and the clinging guilt that loomed over you for what you’d done. Before you realised it, you were standing outside his door. He could’ve answered before you knocked as he usually did, but this time he chose to make you knock and wait for him to come answer. Your knock was only soft, but you knew he still would hear it. You couldn’t bring yourself to make a noise any louder, to take up any more space in his day. It was a long minute later when Derek answered, and he stood there looking about as exhausted as you felt.
He let you in without a word, then headed for the living room. He didn’t sit, like you’d been hoping, instead he simply stood in front of that huge window and stared at you. He looked lost. He said nothing.
“I’m sorry.” You offered softly, and he didn’t respond for a while. His eyes burned holes in your skin as he stared, but you let him, hoping he would be able to find what he was looking for.
“You can shoot.”
“I learned as a kid.”
“You didn’t grow up being friends with a Werewolf.” Derek accused, and you wanted to crumple to the ground and sob, desperately pleading for his forgiveness, but you didn’t. That was the cover story you’d told the entire pack when you’d first met him, the cover story you told anyone you needed to. But Chris was right - Derek needed to know everything. So you told him, as you’d done with Chris the night before, and you were fully honest. You even told Derek things that you hadn’t told your fellow hunter, about the treatment you’d gotten by people in the supernatural community when you were honest about who you were.
“And that’s not.. Me trying to justify lying to you. I just, hope I can at least help-”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, voice soft but near devoid of emotion.
“I was scared you’d look at me differently, that-”
“No. That’s why you don’t tell other people, why you don’t tell strangers- why didn’t you tell me?” Derek asked, and on that final word his voice cracked, eyes welled up with tears you were sure had been building in his chest as they had with you.
“I- I was going to. Then you told me about Kate and- I was so scared of losing you Derek. I’m terrified every day that something will happen and you won’t come home. How was I meant to admit to you of all people, given what you’ve been through, that our relationship started the same way as your one with her?” You asked, harsher than you meant to, your words barely managing to be uttered through thick, ugly tears. You would never be anything like Kate Argent, and you hoped against hope that he knew that, that he could understand that even if it wasn’t today.
“You need to leave.” He said, breathing in deeply, though it was shaky. That was precisely what you’d been afraid of, but you knew to refuse or insist now would only make you more similar to her, so you kept your mouth closed. You nodded, and wiped your eyes, pushing away the thick tears that rolled down your cheeks. Compartmentalising was the only part of hunter training that you’d ever really taken to.
“Okay. Can I get some of my stuff?” You asked, mentally packing a small bag to take back with you to Chris’ apartment. Despite your attempt to steel yourself against your emotions, your voice quivered as you spoke, betraying you. You weren’t sure how long Chris would let you stay with him, but you’d take whatever you could get, eager to avoid motel living for as long as possible, so you’d make sure to pack several outfits if you could.
“Ten minutes.” Derek grunted, then whipped past you so quickly it almost knocked you over, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment to himself.
Peter chose that moment to appear on the metal staircase that led up to his own room, looking down at you with a raised judgemental eyebrow.
“Like Mr I Killed My Niece has the room to look at me like that.” You spat, though you waited for his retort despite yourself. Your relationship with Peter was a tense one, mostly strained by the feelings between him and Derek more so than interactions you’d had yourselves. If anything, Peter had been pleasant and polite, or at least as much as he was to anyone.
“I’ll drive you to Christopher’s apartment, I was headed there anyway.” He chose to say, rather than picking the obvious reponse, the one you heard in the silence even if he hadn’t opened his mouth - at least Peter had never lied about it.
You took less than ten minutes to gather the things you’d need, mostly because Derek was still locked in the bathroom so you couldn’t get any toiletries that you needed, Peter said he’d stop by a store on the way to Chris’ so you could grab them anyway.
You hesitated at the door, aching with the need to defend yourself, to attempt to put things to rights now rather than later, but Peter behind you ushered you out, and forced you onward toward his car. You were almost glad for him being there. Peter ended up being the one to go into the store, if only because he couldn’t seem to shake you from the stupor you’d sunk into in his passenger seat, but at least he paid enough attention to get the right things, or similar ones. You’d be more creeped out if you weren’t so used to odd werewolf things like everyone you know being aware of every scented product you used on your body, from shampoo to body spray.
It was Chris that managed to peel you out of the car, though not without much prompting and some amount of physical force. He guided you up to his apartment with a gentle hand on your back, sharing concerned glances with Peter. He put you to bed to rest, aware you’d slept poorly the night before, and disappeared to do whatever it was he was doing with Peter. You heard them distantly in another room, talking in soft voices to be considerate of you.
You just lay there, staring into the darkness. You didn’t deserve their kindness, and you didn’t deserve Derek’s forgiveness.
You’d done it, you’d ruined your second chance, and you’d done it all by yourself.