XXXXXXXXXX
I'm morally supporting my boys at lacrosse practice again, when it happens. Don't get me wrong, I love the chaos and havoc that Coach Finstock sows everywhere he goes, but as hilarious as him being the furthest thing from peace inducing is, it's really bad for our resident pooch. I don't know what he says to Scott, unfortunately, it was probably fucking cackle worthy, but it sets my brother off.
Jackoff, Jackson, oops, goes down like Scott's brain cells when Allison walks by, and then my boys are booking it. Stress, anger, fear, Scott and Stiles. I bolt after them, but bleachers and no Seeing-eye buddy means I go slow or bust my shit. I sense Derek right before I see him. I squeak, but don't hesitate to take his hand when he silently offers to help me down.
I don't let go as my feet hit the ground, and instead drag him with me into a jog. He is gentle, and I'm surprised when he doesn't push me. I give his hand a squeeze, "Thank you." Kind.
When we get to the locker room, it's to Stiles telling Scott he can't play. I glance around, trying to figure out what happened, and I'm suddenly hit with an impression. Scott chases Stiles, only to be fended off with a fire extinguisher. A sharp pain hits my skull and I must make some noise, because I feel large, warm hands steady me, and sense my boys draw near. I whimper, and my hands tremble as I press my palms to my eyes. Fear cuts through me deeply, and my knees give out under the wave of relief that hits me after. Gentle hands guide me down and I can hear 2 voices calling me. I breathe through it, and soon start to hear words. I let out a tiny sob, before forcibly pulling myself together.
"-la, please…Lay-….ear us? -…love y-…Layla?" Panic, concern, confusion, Stiles, Scott, and Derek.
I let out a shuddering breath, and refuse to collapse under it all even as my eyes burn. I blink rappidly, and almost cry when it works.
"Layla, are you here with us," Derek whispers softly right into my ear. I realize he put me in his lap when I fell, my legs on Stiles who gently runs a hand through my thigh length brown waves. That's kind, the skirt is new, I think a bit hysterically. A heart thumping against my back soothes me.
"I'm here," I choke out, and then reflexively, "Sorry."
"Can you tell us what happened, Halwa?" I smile at the Arabic nickname that Stiles manages to perfectly pronounce out of sheer will power. My boys don't use it often, but I love hearing it. It translates to sweets, like saying sweetheart. A show of love.
"Love you. Yes. Thank you. Yes, um," I shudder, and I feel Derek's hand pressed on the back of my neck before relief hits me. "When I walked in, I got hit with a… vision impression- thing. It was like I could see Scott attack Stiles, and him weaponize a fucking fire extinguisher, because of course you did, Stiles…But, it was clear, I-I havre never… it was so clear… And then, everything went black…I-I…My eyes were still open, I thought…" I choke, and press imago the warmth behind me trying to steady my breathing, and not slip into the hysterics crawling up my throat. Derek is letting out some kind of low, rumbling growl that's giving soothing vibes.
"You had some kind of vision with the highest clarity you've ever seen, and afterwards, you went completely blind for a second and it scared you," Stiles decifers easily, his voice and hands softly brushing against my frayed nerves, "Is your vision fully back?"
"Almost." I feel my body untense, and turn to look at Derek. His eyes are like sharp, ice chips, but I can still feel concern coming off of him, still gentle protective instinct. I glanced at Scott and see that his are a bright gold. Must be the puppy instinct. Ok. I can do that. Leaning forward, but moving slow in case he wants to dodge, I press my cheek against his briefly. "Thank you."
I slip off his lap to hug Stiles and Scott tightly, and although he says nothing, I feel his grief, relief, surprise, and longing. He doesn't understand how I knew to do that. Guess it was the right choice. I'm not even sure why I did it, but I had already decided I was going to follow my instinct with this supernatural bullshit. It hasn't led me wrong yet.
I tuck myself in between Scotty and Stiles, leaning into them for support. Love them so much. Stiles starts to speak, "Layla, that ability is one we're going to have to train. You could've landed really hard and hurt yourself. Hopefully, the recharge blimd period will decrease with practice."
I nod, seeing that the wolves have stopped their glow stick party trick. I trust Stiles to handle those thoughts right now, and decide I don't have to think about it now, "So, Scott can't play?"
"Yup." Damn.
XXXXXXXXXXX
We end up at my house. I have to make sure my little sister gets home, and actually eats. The boys, which, funnily enough, includes Derek now, hide in the basement while I make sure my baby sis, Sunya, a 6 year old clone of me, though not physically, is occupied, and taken care of. Our parents are both gone on business often. We didn't always have much, but investments, including my personal ones, have been making dough recently, so Sunya, my sunshine, is being looked after by me, and a nanny, a lovely lady named Lola who lets me do whatever the hell I want without telling anyone, makes sure we are both well, and the house taken care of.
"Kisses, Boo." I tell her, and she gives me a sweet hug and my cheek kisses, like the proper North Africans we are. Well, half. I'm half Arab, half Indian although Sunya is full Arab because we have different dads. Being a different race from your sibling is weird.
"We're atching anime together later, right?"
"Yup, but homework first. Stay upstairs until I come get you. Love you." I tell her. She nods and heads upstairs without a fuss like, the sweetheart she is.
Ha, maybe she isn't my clone after all. I grab the food and bring it downstairs.
"Sunya?" Scott asks.
"All good." I tell him, setting the munchies on the table and flopping down next to him on the couch and pressing our sides together. Then I take the baseball bat I have hidden next to it, for protection reasons in case of an intruder or something, and nail him in the gut with it smoothly. "Ow, Layla, what the actual fuck?"
"That was for my ankle and tossing me into the ditch before using me to break your fall. I'll get you for my wrist later," I say darkly with a glare. He flinches, and lets out a canine whine before pressing into me and barring his throat. Huh, I guess he really is like a wolf. Which means… I reach out and press my hand to his throat, letting my blunt nails rest gently on the skin. His eyes go gold, but I'm close enough to stare them down. He quickly drops them, and I let go. As soon as I do, he throws himself nearly into my lap. I tuck him close and pet his hair without hesitation, setting my chin on top of his head while internally screaming the whole time. Both Derek and Stiles watch, gobsmacked.
"How are you doing that? How did you know what to do?" Derek demands, sounding sharp, but mostly confused.
" Well, Scotty is my brother, which probably means we're pack. Werewolves should theoretically have the same mannerisms as wolves to an extent. I scolded him, and he buried his throne submission. That, coupled with the fact that I usually treat him like a little brother, should mean that he sees me as a higher ranked wolf. So, I declared dominance, and now we have cuddles. I'm mostly just following my instincts and any werewolf lore I have knowledge of. Simple." That is a complete lie, it is not even kind of simple, and I'm pulling most of this off by bullshitting, but it's working, so whatever, I guess.
I feel a tiny spark of jealousy, surprisingly, from both Derek and Stiles. I know Stiles just loves any chance to cuddle, but I realize that Derek probably hasn't had anything like this since his family died. My heart aches for him in simple human compassion. Poor pup, he isn't really that much older than us.
"Stiles, come on, puppy pile time," I say waving my free hand at him. Stiles whoops and happy dances over, laying his upper body on my torso and curling towards the puppy already in my arms. I kiss the top of his head, and feel bad that we can't offer this to Derek. Not yet.
I squint at Derek where he sits in the loveseat on the other side of the coffee table. It's only for a few seconds before he gets up, clears the space on the table, and sits there instead, making it much easier to see him. I tap his leg with my foot in silent thanks. He really is just naturally kind.
"So, down to business. Scott either has to learn control before Friday, or else he's going to get very sick."
Stiles catches on immediately. "Oh my, Scotty, that cough is awful. And those sniffles!"
"Oh, dear, I do believe that is the third time you've upchucked your chicken noodle. It was good soup, too."
"Layla," Scott whines, leaning hard against me, "I'm dying. Everything hurts. Do I have a fever?" I pretend to check his forehead, before actually getting concerned when I realized that he really is warm. Derek must see something in my expression.
"It's fine. Werewolves naturally run warmer," he says stiffly. Amusement. Ha, you think we're funny, Grumpywolf, you can't hide from me!
"Huh," I focus on him dropping the antics, "Derek, you told Scott that you're brothers, so that means we are all in this together now, and we need your help. We need a crash course in Good Boy Tricks and how the hell we ended up like this."
"We aren't blaming you," I say quickly, as I feel him getting defensive, and see a snarl starting to curl at his lips, "but you are the only one who knows what's going on, and we need you to tell us if we're gonna stay under the radar, and not get holes in us like Swiss cheese. I don't really fancy being stabbed. Not on my bucket list."
It's silent for a minute and I keep petting my boys. Then, Derek sighs, and his body slumps. Reluctantly, he starts, " A few weeks ago, my sister Laura came back to Beacon Hill. A few days ago, I came looking for her. I– I had felt our pack bond break. She's dead."
I can feel that Stiles and Scott want to know what the hell pack bonds are, too, but I squeezed them, silently telling them to stay quiet. Now isn't the time. "I'm so sorry, Derek. Is she the one…?"
"Yeah. She is the one in the woods. I buried the other half of her body at our house," Overwhelming grief and anger. Dear God, this poor man, "Whoever bit you is the same person that killed her. Only alpha's can turn humans with a bite, and if she had been killed by a non-werewolf, her alpha powers would've been transferred through the bonds into me."
" OK, so let's break this down," Stiles says whipping out a notebook in pen from what seems like a fucking dimentianial pocket, what the fuck, "Alpha's are the only ones who can bite and turn people. If a werewolf kills an alpha, they gain the alpha power, but if something else kills an alpha, the power is transferred to another wolf connected to the alpha with pack bonds. What are pack bonds?"
"They are like metaphysical ties between pack members. You can influence and check the state of a pack mate with it, like emotions and health. The stronger the bonds, the closer and more powerful the pack. Additionally, alphas are red eyed, and they are the most strong and fast healing of the pack, as is necessary for the leader. Betas have gold or blue eyes, like Scott and I. There are also Omegas, which are essentially betas without a pack, and therefore are the weakest of our kind. A wolf without a pack will eventually lose its mind and go feral, so Scott is very lucky that you guys, and even luckier that Layla seems to be able to act as an authority. I don't know if that is because of your relationship, or whatever the bite did to her is helping it along." I feel a hint of jealousy and longing again.
" I don't think any of us can actually feel the pack bonds, though," I question.
"You haven't actually done the ritual to solidify them, yet." Derek states. Like I should've known that! This little shit, if he wasn't so miserable, I would chew him out for his sass.
" Alright, let's do that first. I'm assuming that these pack bonds will help Scotty keep his control?" Derek nods, "Alright, show me how to do it, then. Not like they weren't already my minions."
"They kneel and bare their necks. You grab their throat and align your nails along the vertebrae just beneath their skull. Then, for the werewolf you bite the neck until they bleed, and for the humans, you just press your teeth in a bit." Our trio stares at Derek, dumbfounded. "Mind you, I've never seen a non-alpha do this but based on how Scott acts, it might work temporarily, or even just to activate the bonds. You won't really be alpha, just higher ranking and able to control him a bit."
"I have to fucking bite him. Until he bleeds," Derek gives me a very judgmental look, like what he said was perfectly normal. I throw my hands in the air exasperated, "Fucking fine, whatever. Minions grovel."
"This won't, like, mind control them, right?" I ask as Scott and Stiles move to kneel near the table.
"No, but an Alpha has a lot of control on the actions of a pack. Orders are nearly impossible for a wolf to disobey, with some exceptions depending on the bond. Good Alphas won't enforce their will like that, but if you don't have solid control, there is a lot you can be forced to do." I realize what this means for Scott who was bitten randomly by what seems to be a feral Alpha, but don't say it out loud in order not to scare him. I can tell Stiles realizes it too by the way he flicks his eyes to mine. We both silently agree not to mention it yet.
I step up to stand in front of the two kneeling boys, and instantly I feel a change in the air. The humming that I have been hearing since the day after I was bitten is suddenly louder, and a thick tension surrounds us all. Once again, I let my instincts guide me.
I brush my hand along Scott's cheek before grasping his neck just hard enough to leave gentle pressure indents with my fingernails. For a second, we stare at each other, brown eyes to brown eyes.
Then, his eyes blaze gold, and he starts to growl quietly. Don't look away, and don't back down, an impression zings through me and I hold still and unafraid. This is my little brother, and he needs this to protect him. I won't fail in that, and werewolf or not, if he gets out of line, it's my responsibility to kick his ass back on track.
Suddenly, he stops, and leans his throat into my hand. I step up, lean down brushing our cheeks together, before sinking my teeth into the side of his neck, hard and quick. As soon as I taste blood, I pull back.
For a second, nothing happens, and I glance at Scotty thinking it didn't work. And then I feel a snap. I gasp as I'm suddenly flooded with impressions. I shut my eyes, and it's like I can see a gold rope connecting me to Scott. Sunshine and laughter, warm breezes and shaky breaths, warm blankets, and protectprotectprotect little brother. Love and the smell of chocolate and lavender. I yank my attention away from the golden light between us and snap my eyes open, a little overwhelmed. Sxcott is staring at me, his mouth wide and gaping. I brush my trembling hand across his cheek, trying not to cry, as I step towards Stiles, rasping, "it worked."
Stiles is focused, not having missed anything at all, but doesn't hesitate to bare his throat and meet my gaze. His eyes widen at the glassiness, but he stays silent and glances down. I hear his breath hitch when I press my teeth to his flesh for a moment, before pulling away. When we meet eye contact again, I feel the second snap of a bond falling into place, and I'm no more prepared for it.
Stiles's bond is bronze. Twilight and crisp autumn air, soft and sharp, the smell of paper and ink and coffee. Love and understanding and loyalty. Electricity and chaos. I pull back to see Stiles near tears of awe himself. I give a watery smile and silently pull both boys close where they press their faces into my shoulders. We don't speak.
After a small eternity, I straighten myself out and step up to where Derek is still sitting on the coffee table. I hold my hand out for him, and wait silently.
Derek recoils in shock, "You don't know me, you can't just invite me into pack." His voice cracks in stress but I can feel him. Sadness, grief, longing, and hope.
'There is a feral alpha wandering around Beacon Hill, and if I'm not mistaken, you just lost the rest of your pack.," He flinches violently, but I continue gently on, "I can sense that you're a good person, Derek Hale, and I will not allow you to fall into omega status when I can help it. We will help you get justice for your sister, and you can leave the pack whenever you so choose, but for now, I'm asking you to trust us, and let us help you."
Anger and pain. For a second I wonder if my instincts were wrong, before Derek's emotions change. Determination and resignation.
He stands up and prowls the three steps towards me until we're practically chest to chest. I stare ip at his icy blue eyes with my own, ignoring the slight tension I feel from forcing them to focus so intently. Then he huffs out an exasperated sigh, rolls his eyes, and grabs my waist in a smooth motion baring his neck and lifting me off the ground so that I'm face to neck with him. Tall bastard doesn't want to bend for my short ass to bite him, ha. He doesn't have any intention to kneel, and that is just fine. I bite him like Scott.
He sets me down, but still grips my hips to steady me as the third bond clicks into place. Dark woods and hazy, gentle light. Pain and despair, grief and fear, self loathing and rage. A spark of hope and fragile trust. Silence and the smell of pine, leather, and sandalwood. Almost as soon as I register Derek's icy blue bond, it almost seems to dim, and become quieter than the other two, like someone turned the volume down.
"Okay," I mutter, ignoring the overwhelming amount of emotion I was getting from everywhere today, "Now, we eat."
XXXXXXXXXX
The atmosphere becomes a lot lighter after that. Leave it to Stiles to break any sort of seriousness of a situation, it's a gift. I stuffed my new pack mates with yummy Biryani and various curries. Apparently, wolves eat a crap ton due to an increased metabolism that helps energize their abilities, like healing. Derek and Stiles take to the spice like champs, but I give the mild stuff to Scotty. Not really his thing, Hispanic roots or not. Dear God, they're like black holes. Where are they even putting it? After Derek and Scott pack away something like six plates of food, and Stiles packing away an impressive 3 himself, fucking teenage boys, we get to plotting.
"Ok, first things first. We have to put Laura's body back." Derek actually pops to his feet in rage and lets out a snarl nearly loud enough to be a roar, so I snarl right pack, standing on the couch so he isn't taller than me, fuck that!
"Sit your furry ass down, Snuffles, and don't you dare let my baby sis hear that, or I'll make a rug out of you."
Derek recoils, shooketh, but the boys just grin, used to how cutting I can get, although I'm told it's a striking contrast to how I look. "Listen, the police aren't going to stop looking. All you did was risk incriminating yourself. Here's what we're gonna do. You put Laura's body back out into the woods, and then me and Stiles will meet you at the café down the street from the sheriff station. Our story will be that I heard you were in town, and wanted to reminisce about Cora, who I actually was friends with, so I got in touch with you. Then, we come with you to the station and you file a missing person report for Laura. Hopefully, they will release her body soon and we can bury her property like she deserves. We need to make sure your alibi is solid, though. Do you have anything to prove you weren't in Becon Hills when she died?"
"The flight I took should prove I only arrived after, they found her, so it should be enough to absolve me of suspicion," he admits stiffly, but I do feel the slight regret and embarrassment coming off him. In my mind, I reach for the blue bond and try to push comfort into it. He said they could be manipulated, and it seems to work where he relaxes and shoots me a surprised look. "But, you shouldn't be seen with me, the hunters will notice and start to watch you."
I shake my head, "No, at this rate you are gonna be seen with us eventually. This way, we can establish a reasonable, non-supernatural explanation why, rather than scramble for one later if it gets out. This brings me to part two. Where are you staying?"
Derek shifts uncomfortably for a minute, before he admits, "I'm staying at my house."
Stiles nearly chokes on his soda, "You don't mean the burnt out husk of a ruin in the middle of the woods, right? Please tell me you don't." Derek shrugs, and our golden trio groans, "Dude, you can't live in the wreckage where your entire family burned to death, you masochist."
"Don't call me dude. And it's not really your business, is it?" Dear Lord.
"Forget it, he will stay with me. Sorry, Scooby, but I can't stomach you living like that while we solve this mystery," I state, firmly ignoring the boys' cackling.
"Oh, you're gonna risk your little sister's life? She is pretty young to die, but the hunters didn't care about the humans and children in my house when they burned it down." I freeze, trying to process the absolute mind fuck of a statement that was. Fuck, he's right, I'm willing to do a lot to help but I can't, can't ever risk Sunya. Oh God, his family! Though, I kinda figured that must have been what happened.
"It's fine, Sourwolf, I'll get my Dad to invite you to stay. It's something he would do. Not even hunters would dare attempt attack our house, you'd have to be fucking stupid."
I whip my head to look at my brilliant BFF, and we shoot absolutely maniacal grins at each other that makes Scotty shudder. I love SneakyStiles!
"There, it's settled, it also helps us hang out together inconspicuously." I say, cheerfully, clapping my hands together. "Now, everyone get the hell out, we have work to do. Derek, Stiles and I will see you soon."
XXXXXXXXXX
Our plan is fucking perfect. We meet Derek at the cafe, in broad view of the crowded street. We fake chit chat and I tell him about the time Cora pushed a jerk off the jungle gym for talking shit about my eyes. I can tell it hurts him to remember, but it also seems to help a bit. I think I even see a genuine smile shine through. Then, we walk with him to Papa Sheriff, talking to as many people as we can, and drawing plenty of attention and asking if anyone has seen Laura.
We wait with him as he files the report, and it only takes a few subtle comments from me to have the good sheriff insisting Derek stays with him and Stiles until they find Laura. Evil genius mastermind for the win! Some deputies actually come in saying they found the rest of the body, damn that was fucking quick, and the Sheriff gets this look in his eye. He asks when Derek got into town, and Derek, acting nonchalant, shows him the ticket, and it's perfect, even if I can feel Derek's distress. After that, we easily escort Derek to Stiles's house.
Stiles and I are feeling rather smug, but I can tell that Derek is in disbelief the whole way. Mwahahaha!
XXXXXXXXXX
Friday rolls around, and our pack is… undecided. Rather than having Scott ask if he could sit the game out and court suspicion, we had him acting ill the whole day in case we needed to fall back on that plan. Derek managed to scrounge up some books from God knows where, both about werewolves, and other supernatural creatures. Although, some are more than a little singed, so I can guess.
It turns out that werewolves maintain control by finding an anchor, some idea, place, thing, or person by which they can focus on that allows them to anchor themselves and maintain control. At first, Scott thought about Allison, but that idea was so stupid that I hit him with a baseball bat again.
"You dumbass, you don't anchor your sanity to a girl you just met. You're not even dating yet, stop thinking with that head and start thinking with the one between your bloody shoulders!" I yelled, throwing anything in reach at him, while Derek and Stiles watched from the coach.
With Derek's help, we've managed to put Scott through various exercises in order to help him keep his cool. You would think with Derek being a born werewolf, he'd be more helpful. Unfortunately, it seems to be working against us because he doesn't really know how to teach things that were ingrained in him since birth.
Anyway, Scott has decided on love as his anchor. It isn't like he's already in love with Allison or anything, but it's just a general emotion. It includes his love for Stiles, Mama Mel, Sheriff Papa, and me. It's honestly fitting, Scott is one of the most gentle and loving people I've ever met. He's got a big heart of gold, so hopefully that should work.
We decide to let Scott play. The only reason I even consider it is because my new Spidey Sense has been going crazy and telling me that if he plays, everything will be fine. This helps to convince Derek, and I'm surprised by the amount of faith he has in my new abilities, as it almost exceeds my own, but I guess he grew up around this mystical bullshit. The other two wear us down, and we agree that if anything goes wrong, we'll just make Scott vomit and drag him off the field.
Surprisingly,… it's fine. There were a few close calls, but Scott keeps it together. I should feel elated, but I know what this is. My senses keep going off, and I realize that this is just the quiet before the storm. Something's coming, and if I'm not careful, if I misread a single sign, someone's gonna die.
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