Chapter Text
They get to Beacon Hills on a storming Thursday at exactly four in the morning. Despite it being the middle of the summer, the air is chilled and heavy when the group of five step out from the black SUV.
Derek Hale takes one look at them, at their blood soaked everything and bullet wounds, and pulls out his phone to make a call. Isaac Lahey, who Tatum only knows the name of because of her mother’s near obsessive behavior when it came to the McCall pack, walks up almost lazily to them. Cody sucks in a deep breath, Lyra’s shoulder’s tensing.
Isaac pauses, assessing them. Despite Lyra’s calm presence, her eyes are sharp. She’s clearly favoring right leg, her clothes are all torn up, and her brown skin is littered with cuts and gashes. Cody stands close behind her, guarding her left. His eyes flash blue, and then go back to hazel. One glance to their right shows Jasper leaning on Skyler, both nursing what seems to be pretty bad bullet wounds. When his eyes land on Tatum, he takes in the blood covering her hands and face, the way it’s soaked into her short hair.
“Scott McCall.” Tatum rasps out. “We need to see Scott McCall.”
—
Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital is bustling with activity. From car accidents to fires to muggings, the nurses and doctors are all busy dealing with victims of the night.
Melissa McCall runs a very tight ship.
“You will get checked out,” Melissa says, finger pointed in Cody’s face. He still hasn’t healed from the claw marks that had shredded his sweater. Despite being almost six foot two, he cowers under the woman’s scolding. “Sit down. Now. Nope, I don’t wanna hear it. Jasper is fine. Sit. Down.”
“Cody,” Tatum finally intervenes. “Sit down.” And when Cody goes to argue, Tatum gives him a look.
“I’m going to check on Lyra. Stay out here in case Jasper or Skyler wakes up.”
—
Lyra looks like shit. Her braids are all messed up, will no doubt need to be taken out and redone, and bags hollow out her eyes. Her bottom lip is split, and two butterfly stitches sit above her eyebrow.
“They say I fractured my ankle. I’ll probably need a brace.”
Tatum snorts, dropping into the seat beside the hospital bed. “Of course.”
“I also have a bruised lung.” This, she says with mild annoyance.
“You did get punched, like, directly in the rib.”
Lyra rolls her eyes. “Shut up. We have to figure out what the hell we’re going to do.”
Tatum sighs, and Lyra finally looks at her. “If they followed us out here, they would’ve attacked by now.”
“Maybe,” Lyra hums. “But that doesn’t change the fact that our entire pack was just annihilated.”
She says it so bluntly that it takes Tatum a moment to process. Still, the image of her dead mother pops into her mind, and suddenly Tatum can’t be in here.
“Tatum,” Lyra says, alarmed. Tatum waves a hand as she rushes out of the room.
“I’m going to get us some food,” she tells Cody. He stares, assessing, and then nods.
“I’ll watch them.”
-
“I don’t know, something feels off.” Jessica DeLuca, Skyler’s mother, a banshee, murmurs. Her loose curls are wild from the constant running her hands through them.
“We’re going to be attacked.”
All the adults in the room, including Tatum’s mother, the Alpha, look towards Lyra’s mom. The woman is a seer, and also Sawyer Hernandez's best friend. Adriana Hale meets Sawyer’s eyes, looking solemn.
”We’re going to die.”
***
”If something happens,” Sawyer is saying to Tatum. “Then you run. You grab who you can, but you do not try to save anyone. You go to the car, and you do not stop driving until you reach Beacon Hills.”
Tatum, who has heard this more times in her life than she can count, nods, exhausted. “You might be overthinking this meeting, Ma.”
”I don’t care, Tate. You run, even if it means you have to leave. You do not look back. You..” She sucks in a deep, pained, breath. “You need to find your dad, okay?”
Tatum blinks, then looks at her with renewed attention. Sawyer rarely ever spoke about Tatum’s biological dad, just enough to let Tatum know how conflicting her feelings were towards him.
”You find Theodore Raeken. Last I heard he was up in Beacon Hills, working with Scott McCall.”
Tatum nods, slowly.
“You find him, and you give him this.” And she hands her an envelope.
”In the safe, the one in my closet, there’s things I want you to pack. Put everything in it in your bag.”
“What’s in it?”
”Bank information, your birth certificate, letters ensuring my contacts transfer to you. Important shit, Tatum.”
Tatum nods, scrubbing a hand through her hair. The tone of voice her mother kept using was making her feel like she was about to enter some sort of war. It was ridiculous.
Suddenly, both of their phones light up. On Tatum’s screen, Cody’s contact. The dread that had slowly been making its way through her system suddenly engulfed her.
From the look on Sawyer’s face, she was feeling the same thing.
***
There’s blood everywhere. It coats Tatum’s hair, drags down her face. Gun shots are echoing across the ranch, the smell of smoke clogging up her senses. Tatum doesn’t know when the fire started, only that it has ravaged through half the property already.
Jasper’s yelling, begging Tatum to let him go. But she can’t, not with hunters and the enemy pack using the dark of the night to their advantage.
“We have to go, now!” Skyler’s voice rings through the frigid air. Lyra’s beside her, holding multiple bags. Cody’s hopefully already started the car.
“We can’t leave them! They have my mom!” Jasper’s voice cracks around a sob.
“All this destruction,” A deep voice starts. Everyone freezes. “Just to get to you.”
Tatum jerks around, and the sight before her leaves her breathless. Her mother, on her knees before a man holding a gun to her head. Sawyer’s glare alone could freeze hell, but the way the man speaks, like they know each other.
“You are a hard woman to find, Ms. Hernandez. Although, I suppose it makes sense. You were trained by the very best.”
“Fuck off, Adams.” Her mother spits in the mans face, and he jerks back like he hadn’t expected it.
He scowls as he wipes it off, a disgusted expression crossing his features. “Filthy fucking animals,” he grunts.
“As I was saying, you’re a hard woman to find. But even you have your flaws. You’re not your mother, after all.” He clicks his tongue, almost disappointed. “Motherhood has made you soft.”
“You’ll die,” Sawyer says softly. “You’ll die, and this stupid organization will go down with you. I promise you, you will regret ever finding me.”
“As lovely as that thought is, you won’t be alive to see it through.” Adams’ smile is cruel, the cocking of his gun makes Tatum’s blood run cold.
”Any last words?”
“Tatum,” Sawyer says, eyes glowing red. “Run.”
***
When Skyler lets out the first wail, it clears half the field. Bodies drop like flies, unable to withstand the frequency of her screams.
It rings in time with the bullet blowing through Sawyer Hernandez’s skull.
The second, third, fourth, leave Tatum hollowed out and empty. The sight of her mother’s dead body is an almost impossible vision. Haloed by the raging fire and blood spilling over her forehead, she’s as ethereal as she always was.
Adams’ throat is ripped out by Cody’s claws. He dies choking on his own blood, slow and painful.
A stray bullet hits Jasper in his side, leaves him gasping and doubled over. The smell of Wolfsbane permeates the air around them, mixing with the smoke. Like clockwork, Lyra and Tatum snap into action. Tatum feels it, when she gets shot with the bullet. It tears through her shoulder, shattering into her rotators cuff.
“Cody, get Jasper to the car, now. Lyra, lets go.”
Skyler’s sobbing, when Tatum manages to usher her into the car. Jasper, at least, looks stable. From the looks of it, Cody had dug out the bullet and burned out the wolfsbane.
Once everyone’s inside the SUV, Tatum wastes no time speeding off.
Cody stares blankly at his bloodied hands, then to Tatum. “We’ll handle it.” He says, firm. Then he sucks in a breath and flashes his eyes. Tatum stares, entranced, as they bleed from hazel to sapphire.
“We’ll handle it.” Tatum agrees, nodding.
—
Tatum stares at her phone, at the multiple messages Lyra and Skyler and Jasper had sent her. Scott McCall and his pack are at the hospital. That should bring her some relief, knowing that she’s done what her mother had wanted. Instead, all it invites is dread.
Even if the McCall pack can help, it won’t change anything. All of the family that Tatum has ever known is dead. Her own mother, just another body to tally off the list of people she keeps losing.
Tatum wants to cry, and scream. She wants to break something, yell about how unfair it is that it’s always her. She’s always the one stuck cleaning up her mother’s messes, stuck trying to put the broken pieces of her friends together. Her mother had known she was going to die. She’d known, and she hadn’t done a single thing to stop it.
She’d left Tatum to figure it out on her own, again.
Tatum stares emptily at the letter sitting in her hands, the letter directed to her. She thinks of ripping it apart, of vanishing into the night. She’d be hunted, surely, but her friends would be safe. She could lead the hunters and the Castello pack away from them, give them a chance to grieve instead of having to fight.
Her heart spikes in pain at the thought of leaving them behind. Tatum rubs the area of her chest that aches, frowning.
Her phone lights up, and Cody’s contact takes up the screen.
“What?” She snaps in greeting. Cody snorts from the other end.
“Glad to know you’re alive. Ms. McCall has been on my ass because you left. Thanks for that.”
Tatum’s eyebrows furrow. He’s stalling, but Tatum doesn’t understand why.
“What’s wrong?” She asks in Portuguese. They’d picked up the language after being ambushed by both their parents about the importance of knowing multiple languages.
“Chris Argent is what’s wrong. They’re asking to see you, but I don’t think sitting down with a hunter is a good idea right now.”
“Not like we have much of a choice. Tell them I’ll be there soon.”
“Just so you know, you look just like your dad.”
Tatum blinks, and the line goes dead.
“Well,” she mumbles under her breath. “Time for a family reunion.”