Wednesday August 16th, Beacon Hills.
Victoria's home was never truly….. empty.
Teams of Hunters cycled in and out for meetings and debriefs regularly.
Weapons and traps did the same along with them.
So when she first burst through the door before the sun rose covered in blood and dragging along unconscious WereWolves, it wasn't to different from the usual.
But at the same time, it was incredibly different.
Thankfully they got the introductions out of the way on the road and Chris didn't turn into his father midway through the capture mission.
Even so, he hadn't spoken to her directly. He wouldn't even look at her.
His problem. Victoria kept herself busy, marching through the house to check the shifters that filled each room. The smell of blood and pain clung to the polish over her wood floors like bugs to dung. It twisted up her stomach into an anxious knot.
What she felt when she finally entered her own room was something much worse.
"How are they?" She asked as she stood in the doorway, watching Derek look over Cora and Boyd.
"Rough shape. But they'll make it." Derek replied firmly.
He also wouldn't look at her.
"I-…. I'm sorry." Victoria stated as she crossed her lean muscled arms across her chest.
"It was your first Full Moon outside. Marco gave you the guidance… and power to fully Synthesize but because of Deucalion he wasn't here to guide you. It could've gone worse. We got everyone. Nobody died. It's fine." Derek gripped Cora's hand and his veins went black. He growled silently.
"Mom…?" Alison called to her from down the hallway.
She exited her room and turned to face her daughter.
Her rich brown hair was pulled into a ponytail and she still wore her athletic leggings and sweater. The quiver of arrows once slung over her shoulder was gone. Somewhere laying empty….. after she put three into Victoria's chest and the rest in Cora and Boyd.
"Yes?"
She waved her over.
Victoria followed, trying to store away her guilt for another time. Maybe take it out on Marco. He was invincible anyway so it wouldn't bother him.
She entered Alison's room to find yet another unconscious adolescent. Only this one wasn't covered in blood and cuts. Her redness came in the color of her hair.
Lydia lay still beneath blankets and over the finest pillows. She almost looked like a rendition of sleeping beauty. Makeup still in tact and all.
"I didn't get to tell you….. you know because of the Full Moon stuff. But Lydia screamed and passed out like minutes before we got in contact with you guys. I had to leave her here. When we got back she was saying this…" Alison explained.
"Saying wha—"
"Jackson.... Jackson….. Jackson…." Lydia mumbled his name before going silent. Only to repeat the process.
Alison bit her nails.
Victoria moved on instinct, "I told you to stop doing th—"
They both froze as her hand was inches from Alison's face.
Victoria dropped her hand, "Nevermin—"
She was cut off again as Alison jumped into her arms to hug her.
The knot in her stomach loosened if only for a moment as her shaking daughter held her.
Victoria returned the gesture as tears fell.
"I'm so sorry…."
"I'm sorry too…. For shooting you."
They both let out awkward laughs, "For a competitive shooter I expected to wake up with no eyes."
"They were warning shots." Alison sniffed and hugged her tighter.
Victoria sighed, feeling reminded of her and her families mortality. Of all the Shifters gifts how could she have forgotten their greatest weakness? Never again.
"Consider me warned."
They held eachother a while longer before Alison spoke.
"So what do you think it means?"
"What?"
"Lydia…"
Victoria shrugged, "Ahh… she's a teenager. You guys are all about your crushes at that age. Jackson died…. And he was more than a crush to her. I'm sure she misses him dearly. Even if he was…"
"Mom."
"You're right. Sorry."
"No… I just meant. Lydia…. She's been different." Alison sounded nervous and apprehensive again.
"So…. You think this is different?"
Alison nodded against her chest causing the fabric of her turtle-neck to warm.
"Damn…. Where's a Druid when you need one?" Victoria cursed as she eyed the dimly lit ceiling.
The morning sun had finally risen above the height of their block of affluent homes. But it couldn't have been past seven in the morning.
"You think they're ok?" Alison questioned. "You think…. Scott's ok?"
Victoria cringed at the memory of all the Berserkers and Nahual corpses.
"I..."
Knocking at the door cut their conversation short.
Everyone in the house was on guard.
Not because they were nervous.
Because of the smell.
New Wolf.
When Victoria hit the bottom of the stairs in the dark living room, glowing eyes surrounded her.
Derek, Isaac, Erica, Alison, Chris, and herself.
Chris had one hand on his fifty caliber handgun and the other on the doorknob. The shielded windows kept the scent untied to a face.
Victoria popped her claws and nodded for him to open the door.
With the incoming morning winds came the smell of scorched flesh and blood.
"Hey, I heard there was a sleepover." Stiles said. His usual comedic style was changed by the exhaustion that deepend his tone greatly. Scott was slung over his shoulder casually.
Behind him, Deaton stood with Marco slung over his shoulder.
His wounds were grave enough to make even Derek cringe.
Deaton seemed relaxed though…. And younger.
"We're going to need some help transporting his mother. Very delicate. And if you touch her wrong, he wakes up. I don't think I'll be comfortable seeing him awake for at least another week so let's approach this with caution."
Victoria looked back at everyone before facing Stiles and Deaton once more.
She couldn't even begin to imagine what happened after they left.
"Right…."