get your worlds out { 2021 } yahtzee tracking

[iluvroadrunner6]

Running Score: 260 (8/8)
Word Count: 36,286

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TRACKING

[iluvroadrunner6]

SET 1: PICTURES

[iluvroadrunner6]

set 1 | quite a night, i'm impressed ~ regency au ~ 300

[iluvroadrunner6]

The theater fills with the local elite’s casual chatting mindlessly about their petty problems. Kate takes her husband’s hand, letting Peter guide them quickly to their seats to settle in for the performance. As the theater begins to fill, she can’t help but lean in and whisper, making sure there’s no one within earshot.

“Anything interesting?”

The corner of Peter’s mouth quirks upwards as he turns to her. “Lady Argent. You should know by now that eavesdropping is quite rude.”

“Is it eavesdropping if you have superhearing?”

He gives her a look at that, and she raises an eyebrow in return.

“What? Are you telling me you’ve never used a bit of gossip that you’ve learned here to your advantage?”

Peter resettles in the seat next to her, glancing down and starting to read through his program. “I didn’t say that.”

“Mmmm,” Kate smirks as she settles to do the same, all the while straining to see what her less effective human ears can catch. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Do you eavesdrop often?” Peter asks, curious, and she turns to shrug.

“Women have so few advantages in court. They want to see us, not hear us, which means we hear many things we shouldn’t. I don’t see why your family wouldn’t do the same.”

“Women are also capable of spreading the information quite efficiently and effectively,” Peter concedes before making a face. “Elena has proven as much.”

“Advantage of a small-town upbringing, I suppose.” Kate raises an eyebrow. “Interested in employing that to your benefit, Peter?”

The lights come up, and Peter turns his attention from her to the orchestra. One hand comes down over hers, and he squeezes it. “We’ll talk about it after the concert.”

She smiles in return before nodding. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

set 1 | you might have some bruises and a few scars ~ regency au ~ 300

[iluvroadrunner6]

There’s not much that escapes Kate’s attention when she sets her sights on something. She sees the way Peter’s slower on the uptake, slower to respond. He’s sleeping more, eating less, and all of that adds up to him not being well. However, her husband is a werewolf. If he’s starting to get sick, something is wrong. She doesn’t want to worry about the winter outlasting her husband.

After all, he was supposed to be the one to outlast her.

She follows him to his favorite spot on the grounds, with the bright autumn foliage by the water. She sits next to him. “We shouldn’t go to Ireland.”

Peter frowns, partially not noticing her arrival but also because he doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t do that. Not with me.” She is not his daughter. She’s his wife. “You’re not well, Peter.”

His lips set in a frown as he stares out at the water. “That doesn’t mean we should hold Malia back. Human’s travel when under the weather all the time.”

“Yes, and it’s the fact that you’re not human that concerns me.” Kate frowns as well. “Have you spoken to Deaton?”

“No.” Peter sighs. “I have my theories, however.”

“Then give us time to explore them. I don’t think Malia is itching to get to Ireland anyway.”

He takes a deep breath before nodding and conceding. “Fine. But Kate, if this is what I think it is—”

She cuts him off at the pass. “We explore our options. No goodbyes until everything’s been exhausted.”

“Fine.” He turns his eyes back to the water before taking her hand. She swallows, squeezing his hand gently. It will be a long road, but she is determined to find a solution.

She’s not ready to let him go that easily.

set 1 | let the whole world melt away ~ regency au ~ 300

[iluvroadrunner6]

Kate watches as the fireworks burst over the water, small bursts of color sparkling through the sky. The other party-goers nearby certainly seem impressed, but she’s reserving judgment on the matter.

“Enjoying the evening’s festivities?”

She turns to see Peter standing next to her, and she smirks in response. “They are certainly festive, that’s for sure.”

He smirks as well. “People have to entertain themselves somehow, I suppose. And Andreas has always been one of the colorful ones.”

“It toes the line between spectacle and spectacular in a way that I appreciate,” Kate nods. She then turns, glancing over her husband’s shoulder to the rest of the room. “How’s Malia doing?”

Peter shrugs. “Last I saw her, she and Andreas’s oldest son were having a rather heated debate about some policy or other. I don’t think he expected his challenger to be quite so educated.”

Kate smirks in return. “I’m sure he would have been content to keep underestimating women if given the opportunity. Malia must be wiping the floor with him.”

“Politely, of course. Malia’s trying not to seem like she’s enjoying it too much.” Malia may be rather blunt about things, but it’s clear that Peter is proud of her. Kate is confident he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So since she’s occupied, you decided to come to find me?”

Peter shrugs before taking her now-empty wine glass from her and placing it on the tray nearby. “I was wondering if you might enjoy a dance or two.”

“Peter Hale dances?” Kate can’t help but raise an eyebrow curiously as she tucks her arm into his. “Will wonders never cease.”

He laughs before leading her out onto the floor. “I’ve been said to remember a move or two.”

“Then please,” she nods with a smile. “Lead on.”

set 1 | maybe i shouldn't quite say never ~ regency au ~ 300

[iluvroadrunner6]

A sharp elbow connects with her side, and she jerks awake.

“What?”

“The wedding,” Peter replies sharply, stiff as ever next to her. “You were falling asleep.”

“I was bored,” she sighs as the elegantly dressed bride and the tense groom stand at the front of the church. The Latin syllables reverberate from the sacristy, but the preacher’s droll, monotone voice threatens to lull her to sleep again. “The least they could do is have someone object.”

“Why would you want that?”

“Might inject some life into the proceedings. Maybe there’ll even be a duel.” Peter gives her a look, and she rolls her eyes. “You must know how much of a sham marriage is.”

“Maybe for people like you.” She can’t tell if that’s a reference to her species or her personality. “But for us, it’s something quite serious.”

Kate shakes her head before leaning in and dropping her voice. She knows the alpha a few rows up will hear her, but maybe Talia should. “Didn’t stop your sister from marrying off your niece to my brother.”

Peter purses his lips. He was already unhappy that he had to escort her. Now he had actually to converse with her. “I believe your family forced our hand in that respect.”

“Mmm. And even if we hadn’t? Would she have been allowed to marry for love or an arranged match from the right pack?” When he doesn’t respond, she smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

“Are the Argents better?” Peter glances at her. “I heard about your engagement.”

Her face sours. “I didn’t say I had it better. But I don’t pretend it’s something it isn’t.”

The wedding bells ring, and she leaves, letting him ponder her words. Maybe it would give him and every other man in this room some perspective.

set 1 | we've been hurting one another ~ regency au ~ 300

[iluvroadrunner6]

Kate intensely dislikes asking for help. Especially when the person she’s asking is one of the people she loathes most.

However, she’s alone, in a city without her family. The Argents and the Hales are supposed to have an alliance. At least Peter has respect for women’s ability to take care of themselves. So, once the tournament’s festivities have concluded for the evening, she sneaks past to his tent, making sure she’s upwind so that he knows she’s coming.

As her hand meets the canvas, he speaks. “Coming to sour my win with your presence, Lady Argent?”

She grits her teeth. “I don’t want to be here either, but I don’t have much choice.”

He straightens, turning to face her curiously. He’s still in his feast attire, having escorted one of the local ladies. He seemed quite smitten. How unfortunate that she’d have to ruin his evening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She swallows hard before forcing out the words. “I need your help.”

At that, his eyebrows raise even higher, and he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “And what has left you so desperate that you’ve come looking for my help?”

“Have you heard of La Bête du Gévaudan?”

“Your family staked your name on that beast if I remember correctly.”

She pulls out a piece of machinery and tosses it to the ground for him to inspect. “I think someone is trying to resurrect it.”

Peter takes the piece, studying it, before looking up at her again. “How far?”

“A ten-minute ride, give or take?”

“Lead the way.”

Kate nods before turning away to hide the relief in her face as she does. That was easier than she thought. Now all they have to do is make it through the rest of the night alive.

set 2 | i knew you were trouble | regency au | 600

[iluvroadrunner6]

Nadia stops at one of the nearby mirrors to check her appearance one last time. She knows that this is their initial meeting, but she still wanted to make an excellent first impression. As the only daughter of Alexander Kirsanov, she had to find a good match, and the Hales was one of the most prestigious werewolf families in Europe.

Peter had come to Europe in the interest of seeing if he was fit for her hand, and she intends to put her best foot forward, with hopes that he would do the same.

“At least he’s handsome.” Irina, her lady in waiting, comments from the hallway where she’s observing the ballroom. “That’s already a step in the right direction.”

Nadia steps away from the mirror and moves to the doorway, peering around the corner. Sure enough, there at the table designated for the guests of honor were Talia and Peter Hale. Talia’s mate, Thomas, sat to her left and Peter to her right. He is handsome; Nadia would give him that. Bright blue eyes and a knowing smirk as his eyes pick out the two women across the room.

Her gut tells her that he likely speaks Russian. She makes a face before turning back to Irina and switching to a rougher nearby dialect. “Let’s not give him too much ammunition, shall we?”

Irina raises an eyebrow before recognition dawns, and she nods in understanding. Nadia watches as Peter’s brow furrows, confused at the changes in syntax and usage, and it confirms her suspicions. Their eyes meet across the room, and she raises an eyebrow in return before speaking in perfect English.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop, Lord Hale.”

Peter doesn’t look away, nor does he seem ashamed of the fact. The arrogance of the young, as her father would say. That’s something she intends to temper as soon as possible. That said, she and Irina emerge from the alcove, making their way over to her father’s table for a formal introduction. Alexander takes his daughter’s hand, leading her to the guest’s table for a proper introduction.

“Lord Hale, Lady Hale. I want to introduce my daughter, Nadia.”

Nadia drops into a deep curtsey. “A pleasure to meet you both. Welcome to our home.”

“The pleasure is ours, Lady Kirsanov.” Talia, at least, is gracious enough. Peter nods in return and gestures to the empty seat next to him.

“Would you like to join us for dinner?”

Nadia smiles. “I would love to.” She can only hope that Peter’s bark is not as strong as his first impressions may appear.

* * * * *

An hour later, Alexander is chatting with Talia and her husband when he hears the tone of his daughter’s voice change. It’s not something self-evident, at least not to anyone who doesn’t know Nadia well. His head snaps in the direction of his daughter, and he can see her fingers curling around the dessert fork in her hand. Most of the charm had drained from her features as Peter prattled on about something or other, and he can see the comment that broke her resolve. Her fist tightens, her hand lifts, and Alexander breaks away from the conversation to try and intervene.

“Nadia …”

Unfortunately, he’s not fast enough. The fork is embedded in the meat of Peter’s thigh before he can break it up. Nadia storms away in a huff, and Talia looks concerned as she makes her way closer.

“Well.” She sighs. “I don’t think that is going to work, will it?”

Alexander shakes his head. “At least we can say we tried.”

set 2 | to say i love you right out loud ~ new york wolves ~ 600

[iluvroadrunner6]

“Nervous?”

Nadia sees Leah in the mirror, and she shakes her head with a wide smile. “Not at all.”

“Liar.”

Leah walks closer as she turns the bride to be to face her. Leah isn’t wrong to call her out on it. No bride is completely solid on their wedding day. There’s always the tiny flutter of anxious anticipation, fretting about making sure that everything is perfect. But Nadia has been through this enough professionally. It isn’t much different when it’s her party to plan.

All she needs is for Peter to be at the other end of that aisle. Everything will be fine.

Nadia shrugs before turning to face her sister-in-law. “Were you nervous with Victor?”

“No.” Leah shakes her head. “But he sure was.”

Nadia laughs. “Probably because he knew that he was the one marrying up.”

“Well, I am quite the catch,” Leah grins before placing a hand on Nadia’s shoulder to pull her in for a warm hug. Nadia returns it in kind before pulling back to look at her friend with a smile. “You know, I have to admit. I highly doubted we would have this moment.”

“You mean where I’m the one in the wedding dress?”

“That one exactly,” Leah smirks. “I didn’t think you believed in the institution.”

“I don’t not believe in it,” Nadia smiles as she goes to pick up her bouquet from the table. “I just didn’t think I had anything to prove.”

“And now you do?”

She shakes her head. “No. But I don’t think he would have asked me to marry him if he didn’t want a wedding.”

“Fair enough,” Leah sighs before a knock sounds on the door.

“Ladies, five minutes.” The wedding planner doesn’t wait for a response before moving on to the next door in the hallway. Leah reaches out to take Nadia’s arm giving it a soft squeeze.

“Ready?”

Nadia nods with a small smile in return. “As I’ll ever be.”

* * * * *

They kept the wedding intentionally small, not wanting more than family and close friends. They also wave some of the more dramatic elements of the reception, keeping things quiet and intimate. But unlike most special occasions they tend to venture out into, Nadia is sure to snag her newly minted husband for their fair share of dancing.

She drapes one arm over his shoulders and flashes him a smile. “Any regrets?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that question,” he teases as he pulls her closer. “I’m generally the more damaged one in this equation.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” she smirks before leaning in to kiss him. “But no. No regrets on my end.”

“Good,” he murmurs into the kiss as he pulls her in closer.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“If I have any regrets?” Peter glances over at her with a smirk before shaking his head. “No, no regrets.”

“Good,” she sighs. She shifts and turns away from the rest of her room, lowering her voice so the rest of the wolf ears in the room can’t hear her. “So how soon can we skip to the honeymoon?”

He laughs, his thumb brushing against the small of her back. “I think we have to have cake at least.”

“Fair enough.”

“Possibly handle a few more minor traditions.”

“So long as they’re only minor.”

He laughs. “Relax. You’ll have me all to yourself soon enough.”

“Promises, promises,” she teases before leaning in to kiss him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmurs in return as they dance the night away.

set 2 | a kick in the teeth is good for some ~ new york wolves ~ 600

[iluvroadrunner6]

Most people consider Peter the dangerous one in the relationship.

Peter is a lot of bolster and apparent anger simmering under the surface, and he’ll tell you how much he intends to ruin your day before he does it. He milks his infamous reputation for all it’s worth. But, if you’re looking for someone to fear, you really should look to Nadia.

She doesn’t talk about it. She just acts.

Her brother’s penthouse was in shambles when they arrived, furniture tossed and blood on the carpets. Immediately her body changes, shoulders stiffening, claws extending, and the snarl resting in her throat.

She charges forward, but Peter catches her arm and shakes his head. She pauses long enough to listen, and she can hear the sound of struggle. Nadia pulls off her shoes and begins to quietly creep into the penthouse and following the sound of the voices.

Liam isn’t hard to find. He’s curled up in a closet not far away, clearly scared out of his mind. She leaves him with Peter and keeps moving, listening to the thumbs and groans as they get closer. Leah, thankfully, isn’t in New York. She went to California to visit her sister. So the only ones that should be in trouble are her brothers.

She inches forward, getting closer to the sounds, and she peeks around the corner to see what the trouble is. It’s not hunters – that much is obvious with how they’re managing to hold her alpha brother off with one hand. But they do look human, which leaves a number of questionable options. Vampire? Berserker? Waheela? She can’t be sure, and she doesn’t want to take the risk until she knows what she’s encountering. Inching to the side, she curls around the doorway so that she could catch her brother’s eyes and learn what they know.

Victor catches her eyes first. Relief passes over his features before turning back to the one holding him by the throat. “You bloodsuckers are in trouble now.”

Bloodsuckers. That means vampires. Should be easy enough. Nikolai is unconscious on the ground with one of the vampires closing in, looking to make a meal out of him. She charges forward, launching herself onto the vampire’s back before sinking her teeth into his shoulder with a snarl.

The vampire screams in pain, hands clawing as he tries to pull Nadia off him. She digs in her claws to hang on before lifting one hand and dragging it across the vampire’s throat.

“Where the hell did you come from?” The vampire holding Victor snarls, and the distraction is enough for her brother to seize the advantage. His eyes flash red as he rears up and sinks his teeth into the meet of the vampire’s arm. The vampire stumbles backward from the force of the alpha’s bite, and he grabs his friend, still reeling from Nadia’s assault, and they quickly speed out of the room.

“Your timing was impeccable,” Victor sighs as he moves over to check on his brother. Nik’s back rises and falls easily, which means he’s healing, not dying.

“What can I say? I always know how to make an entrance.” She glances down at her bloody hands and tastes the copper tinge in her mouth. Making a face, she nods to the bathroom. “I’m going to clean up.”

Victor nods, dismissing her, as she makes her way to the bathroom. Peter leans against the doorway and flashes her a smirk.

“Looks like we aren’t the only ones with exciting night lives.”

Nadia laughs before shaking her head. “Nope. We all pick supernatural fights sometimes.”

set 2 | i went for a walk, on a winter's day ~ new york wolves ~ 600

[iluvroadrunner6]

The crunch of tree leaves beneath her feet relaxes her as she takes a deep breath of fresh, pine-filled air. It’s chilly enough the leaves and grass have stiffened beneath their feet, but it’s too cold to snow, so the grey clouds hang over their heads.

“I forgot it could be this quiet,” she murmurs, tucking her arm into Peter’s as she takes in the peaceful setting. Living in New York City requires you to accept a certain amount of noise in your life. Cars, people, animals all combine to create a comforting white noise that reminds you that you aren’t alone in the world. When you leave the city, all the noise falls away.

“I didn’t,” Peter sighs softly. “I’ve missed this.”

Nadia watches his face as they make their way through the woods. “You know, we could always go back to Beacon Hills for a while if you wanted.”

She knows he doesn’t usually admit it when the children are within earshot. Nadia thinks that Laura knows – she’s perceptive, especially when it comes to her family – but she doesn’t think Malia, Cora, and Derek are aware.

“It feels strange to consider going back to Beacon Hills a vacation,” he finally says as they reach the porch of the cabin, pulling away from her to hold the door open for her. She smiles at him as she passes through before starting to pull off her coat and boots.

“I know,” she nods. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go back if you want to.”

Peter nods again but doesn’t let them linger on the subject. “Shall I make dinner tonight?”

“You never have to ask,” she smirks before leaning in to kiss him. “You simply have to inform me.”

He laughs before kissing her again. “Open the wine?”

She nods as she heads towards the wine fridge. “I’m on it.

- - - - - -

A few hours later and half a bottle of wine later, they’re curled up on the couch and enjoying each other’s company. While werewolves can’t get drunk, they still benefit from the warm lazy feeling, at least for a bit. Nadia looks at him curiously.

“Do you want to go back to Beacon Hills?”

He glances down at her before shrugging. “I’m not opposed to the idea. But I don’t want to leave my pack.”

She nods. “You still own the land rights where the house used to be, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Maybe it would be worth it to build a summer home.” She pushes up so that she’s sitting next to him. While she and Peter won’t be having children, Laura and Cora clearly will. Having a place to get away might be worthwhile. “Except we likely wouldn’t use it in the summer as summers are busy for me, but nothing wrong with a winter home. The kids can spend time there as they see fit – it’s close enough to things like the beach and Disney – and we can visit in the winter when New York is too cold.”

He raises an eyebrow curiously. “Are you saying you don’t like New York winters?”

She smirks. “I’m saying that I don’t mind getting warmed up every once in a while.” Nadia leans in to kiss him softly before brushing her thumb against his cheek. “You don’t have to make a decision today. Just think about it.”

He smiles before nodding. “I will.” Then he pulls her closer as the smile turns to a smirk. “But first, I think there are much closer things we could be focusing on.”

She laughs. “Focus away.”

set 2 | she's the giggle at a funeral ~ new york wolves ~ 500

[iluvroadrunner6]

Nadia’s never really been someone with a belief in a higher power.

An irony for someone as invested in classical art and music as she is, but she’s never needed to believe in something bigger than herself. The idea of her moral fortitude relying on a set of particular, arbitrary rules never made sense. Never mind the fact that, as a werewolf, she wouldn’t be welcome in the ranks of the faithful.

Not that she is against the idea of faith. People believe what they need to get them through the world. But she prefers to think that she has a choice in her life, that the path charted is her own, and that her choices reflect the person she is, not any arbitrary rules.

She’s never asked Peter his opinions on the matter, but she has a feeling that if it mattered to him, he would have asked.

But, as they come to the tail end of their honeymoon, she can’t help but find herself appreciating the number of asynchronous choices and events that got them to where they are today. It’s such a random chain of coincidences, but it’s a comforting one in some ways. They made the right choices to get to where they needed to go.

A warm breeze comes in off the balcony that opens on the riviera. Humming softly, she curls into her husband’s side as he sleeps, finding the best place to tuck herself against him. As she moves, he starts to stir, blinking his blue eyes open to look at her with a smile.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” she murmurs. “Do you think we might be able to stay another week?”

He laughs. “We’ve already been gone for a month.”

“I don’t think they’ve missed us.”

“I’m sure you have to get back to work.”

“I have an excellent assistant for that.”

“Yes, but your clients aren’t paying exorbitant amounts of money for your assistant.”

“I’m on my honeymoon.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Peter sighs before shifting to face her more. “You know I’m not a traveling wolf. I need to go back to my roots every so often.”

“Mmmm,” she sighs as she leans in to kiss him. “Then I suppose if we must return, we must. But packing is just so much work.”

“I’m sure.” He leans in to kiss her softly before his lips begin to trail to her neck. “I happen to be very good at packing.”

“Are you,” she smirks, running her fingers through his hair. “Are you volunteering to pack for me?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. But I think we have enough time that we could still be on our honeymoon for a little while longer.”

She raises an eyebrow curiously, watching him and trying to anticipate his next move. “Then what, exactly, did you have in mind?”

He grins as he leans in to kiss her, rolling them, so he’s on top of her. “I have a few ideas.”

She laughs before nodding her agreement. “I like them already.”

set 3 | i'll hold out my hand and my heart will be in it ~ spamalot ~ 1,900

[iluvroadrunner6]

“I did something wrong, didn’t I?”

Cora looks up at her, brow furrowing as she does her best to corral her son into one corner of the room for playtime. Ever since Ben started walking, he hasn’t slowed down, and Lydia doesn’t blame her for wanting to try and pin down her son into one place. Eventually, she gives up with being Accommodating Mom and scoops Ben off the floor, moving to place him into the playpen nearby.

Ben does not seem bothered, more amused than anything else, but once he’s settled and going to town with one of his toys, Cora brushes her hair out of her face and rests her hand on her hip.

“Sorry, who are we talking about?”

“Jordan.” Lydia shifts, tucking one leg under herself. Her boyfriend is currently at work, or they wouldn’t be having this conversation at all, but it’s a conversation that needs having because she can’t help but feel she’s done something wrong. “I’ve disappointed him enough times by now to know when it happens. I just don’t know why.”

“Ah.” Cora moves to sit on the couch next to her and turns to face her friend. “He’s a little upset that you’re getting hard to pin down on a future.”

Lydia’s brow furrows as she leans back against the couch, confusion crossing her features. “… How, exactly?”

“He asked you if you wanted to get a dog, and you gave him a rather indefinite maybe.”

“I said we’d see when we get there.”

“Yep, you did. And then you followed it up with ‘a lot can happen between now and then and I don’t just mean between us’?”

“ … Oh.” Lydia sighs. “Well, it’s not untrue.”

“No, it’s not. But Jordan wants more, Lydia. He doesn’t want to be waiting on eggshells forever. And I shouldn’t be the one you’re talking to about this. He should be the one telling you this, but clearly, he’s not.”

Lydia leans back on the couch, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She doesn’t want to be the pessimist; this person doesn’t know how to look forward to the future, but when you can’t even trust yourself, how can you trust anything else?

“Hey, I’m not saying this to judge you,” Cora reaches forward and takes her arm. “And neither is he. He talked to me about it because he wanted to try and figure out how to help you get there.”

“I know,” Lydia turns back to her with a small smile. “I just … I wish I had an answer.”

“You’ll figure it out. And Jordan’ll help you if you let him.” Cora’s about to say something else when she catches sight of her son doing something over Lydia’s shoulder, and the statement shifts to: “Ben! Ben, no!”

Ben bursts into giggles, and Lydia turns to see him balancing precariously on top of one of his toy balls, using the edge of the playpen for support. Lydia shakes her head as Cora gets up to rectify the situation. “You better hope he’s a werewolf, or the Hale family fortune is going to wind up spent on hospital bills.”

“Tell me about it,” Cora sighs, balancing Ben on her hip as she makes her way back. “What was I saying?”

“It’s okay,” Lydia shakes her head. “I have to get to work, and I get the point. I’ll try and figure it out.” She doesn’t want to keep Jordan in a holding pattern forever, after all. Eventually, sooner or later, she’s going to have to make a choice.

She doesn’t know what that choice will be.

* * * * *

“You seem frustrated.”

Laura tends to state the obvious a lot in their sessions. She does it outside sessions as well, but in sessions, it’s far more pointed. Laura brings up the obvious because she wants you to discuss it, to get it off your chest so that they can dissect it together. With Lydia, it’s a somewhat effective tool because as much as she loves to paint on her mask and pretend that she’s fine, werewolf senses don’t lie.

“I am, a little.” She straightens in her seat, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “But it’s mostly with me.”

“How so?” The other frustrating thing about Laura’s candid approach to things is that she throws phrases like that out so casually, yet they’re hard to respond to on their own.

“Jordan is upset with me,” Lydia begins, leaning back against the chair more, almost as though she might be able to melt into it. “And I don’t know how to fix it because I don’t know how to fix me.”

Laura nods once before tapping her pen against the pad. “As he told you, he’s upset with you?”

“No, but I know how it looks. And Jordan told Cora why, who told me so now I’m stuck trying to figure out how to fix a part of me that being a banshee has broken.”

“You know, you’ve been dancing around the traumas of being a banshee, at least in general.” Laura shifts, crossing one leg over the other as she watches her patient. “Maybe it’s time we confront that head-on.”

“I don’t see the point. It’s not like we can change it.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But we should at least talk about it.” There’s a pause of silence as she waits for Lydia to fill in the blanks, and when she doesn’t, Laura pushes the issue. “How does being a banshee make you feel, Lydia?”

Another stretch of uncomfortable silence fills the room as she tries to figure out how to dance around the actual answer, but she knows that’s a waste of therapy in the first place. She swallows hard before finally starting to speak.

“Like … I’m a book with an unreliable narrator, and I don’t know what the truth is. I don’t know when my feelings are mine or someone else who might die. I can make plans for an afternoon, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to follow through when the time comes. I can’t even live alone anymore, on the off chance that something might happen, and no one will know or be able to help me.”

“That’s a lot to deal with.”

“That’s an understatement.” Lydia tips her eyes up, one finger raising to brush away the tears from her eyes. “I … I used to be this person who would bend the world to what I wanted. It didn’t matter if it seemed impossible; I would make it work. I was smart, I was confident, I could figure out the puzzle. I could balance the equation.”

“And now your head is an equation with too many variables.”

Tears sting in her eyes, and she nods at Laura’s assessment. She wishes being a banshee was like solving a math problem because at least she would know if there was an answer. Or at least a way of narrowing it down to a smaller equation.

Laura takes a deep breath, tapping her pen against her legal pad. “Have you given any more thought into contacting the banshee that Jordan found? Seeing if she might be able to help you find more even footing?”

Lydia nods. “Yeah.” She purses her lips before looking back at the werewolf in front of her. “Do you think it would help?”

“I don’t think it would hurt.” Laura nods in return. “Look, I don’t know what it’s like to be what you are. If you were a werewolf, I could give you all the tricks and tips – but that’s not what you are. You’ve been relying on werewolves to try and get a handle on this, and we’re failing you. So maybe it might be best to talk to someone who knows what you’re going through.”

Lydia makes a face before nodding. “What if she can’t give me any answers?”

“She might not be able to answer all your questions – but I’m sure she can at least answer some. And if that some are enough to give you the answers you need to put you on a more solid footing with Jordan, wouldn’t that be worth it?”

Lydia considers again before nodding. “I might miss a few sessions.”

“Don’t be silly. That’s what FaceTime is for.”

* * * * *

Lydia waits until she and Parrish have the loft to themselves at the end of the week, safe from wandering werewolf ears without having to hide in their bedroom. After she puts in her usual rom-com pick, something light and frothy that she doesn’t have to pay attention to, she takes a deep breath before turning to face him.

“I love you.”

He turns to face her, confused. “I love you too. But that sounds like the beginning of a speech.”

“It might be.” She makes a face before shifting so that her whole body is facing him. “It’s not that I don’t want to do those things with you like get a dog or eventually have a place, or ….”

Her voice trails off, and Parrish steps up to fill in the answer. “Marry me?”

She nods, not bothering to repeat it. “I just … I feel trapped in this space where if I try to go too far, something will go wrong, or I’ll lose part of it to something that I can’t control, and I know that it’s something everyone worries about but … I’m not hopeful. I have never been. Determined, possibly even calculated, but not just … blind faith.”

“Trusting us with a dog shouldn’t be a leap of faith, Lydia.”

“I know it shouldn’t. But it is. What if I have an episode and accidentally leave the door open, and it runs away or gets hit by a car, or it follows me somewhere it shouldn’t go.” It’s the reason why she doesn’t babysit Dina or Ben alone either because she never knows. She doesn’t know how to find the warning signs. “It’s not you that I don’t trust. You’re one of the few things that I do trust. I don’t trust me.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Parrish asks, tipping his head to the side. “Because we can’t just sit in a holding pattern forever – we’ll never get anywhere.”

“I know.” She sighs, sitting back on her knees. “Laura suggested that I go spend some time with your banshee friend, and I think she might be right.”

Parrish perks up slightly as he nods, possibly because she has a plan instead of actively staying no. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Lydia pauses before shaking her head. “I think I have to do this on my own. But I’m hoping that I’m not going to be gone long. And there will be FaceTime as I’m not allowed to miss any of my sessions with Laura.”

He laughs before nodding his agreement. “I think I can work with that.”

Lydia nods with a smile as she leans in to kiss him. “And hopefully, when I get back, we can make more concrete plans.”

Parrish nods as he pulls her closer, movie forgotten for now. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

She smiles as she leans in to kiss him, hoping that this is a step in the right direction, after so long not having any.

set 3 | and i ask the moon oh how soon how soon | spamalot | 1,200

[iluvroadrunner6]

Meredith is more than accommodating when Lydia finally finds the way to her front door. The other woman greets her with a smile and open arms, and Lydia sinks into them, welcoming the idea of being known for the first time since this whole mess started. Meredith understands the stages of what Lydia has gone through. The bodies, the blood, the terror, the instability—she has experienced it all.

Lydia’s never really understood the concept of being truly seen, but Meredith fits the bill. As she settles in the guest room at the end of the night, she feels herself relax and hopes that she’ll be able to rest through the night. That moving halfway across the country doesn’t mess up her banshee-dar.

Before she can close her eyes, her phone rings, the FaceTime request coming up from her boyfriend. With a smile, she reaches for the phone and holds it up.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey,” Parrish smiles. She sees him stretched out on their bed and immediately misses home, but she’s here for a reason. She can tough it out. “How was your flight?”

“It was good.” She shifts to lean back against the headboard more. “It got me where I needed to go, and now that I’m here, it’s even better. Meredith is … great so far. Hopefully, she’ll be able to teach me a lot.”

“I hope so too,” he nods. “And I’m sure anything Meredith doesn’t, she knows where to go.”

“Yeah, I think so.” She then turns to him with a small smile. “I miss you already, though. It’s been a long time since I’ve gone somewhere alone and had to stand on my own two feet.”

“You’ll be okay,” he nods. “And before you know it, you’ll be home.”

“I hope so.” She takes a breath. “I’m jetlagged, and I should probably get some sleep. But I’ll call you later?”

Parrish nods as he shifts to his side to place his phone on the bedside table. “Yeah, I’ll talk to you then. Love you.”

“Love you too.” As she hangs up her phone, she can still feel the butterflies in her stomach at being here alone, but Lydia feels safer than she has in a long time.

* * * * *

By the end of the week, Meredith’s managed to help her refine her senses and even has taught her a few more offensive tricks. She finishes every day exhausted, but even she notices the fear starting to trickle away. She shouldn’t be surprised – to her knowledge has always been power. She shouldn’t be surprised. But seeing it put in action has caught her a bit by surprise – how much steadier she feels on her feet just by being able to put words to her feelings.

Flopping back on the bed, she glances at the time before doing some quick time zone math. California is behind her, it’s true, but given the hours he works, she doesn’t want to interrupt him with a FaceTime call when he might be on shift. After comparing the schedule he texted her to the time, she opts to call, stretching back on the bed while waiting for him to answer.

“Hey, beautiful,” he smiles as he answers the phone. He’s in his car. He must have just gotten off work. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Hey yourself,” she returns the smile with one of her own. “I’m glad I didn’t catch you at work because I’m about to pass out. I might not have been awake if you called later.”

“Meredith is running you ragged, huh?” he teases, and she shakes her head.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just … all these parts of me wake up and getting used properly. It shockingly takes a lot out of you.”

“I know what you mean,” he nods in agreement. “Trying to pick apart my stuff was the same way. But I’m glad Meredith’s helping you.”

Lydia nods. “There are some things we can’t test. Like, she’s not going to go out and murder someone to see if I can control myself and stay aware of what’s happening. But I feel more confident in what I do know if that makes any sense?”

“I think so,” he nods in agreement, turning on the car as he settles into the driver’s seat. “So, does this mean you might be home soon?”

“Maybe,” she says, not quite willing to commit yet. “I think I still have a few more things to learn, but soon. I miss you a lot.”

“I miss you too. But when you’re ready to come home, all you have to do is let me know when you’re coming in. I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

“Good,” she smiles. “Tell Stiles and Cora I said hey.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

As she hangs up the phone, she almost immediately drifts off to sleep. It’s easy, considering how much lighter she’s feeling.

* * * * *

It’s another month before she finally makes the call to book her flight home. As much as Meredith has been a gracious host, it’s clear she’s wearing out her welcome. She’s learned all she needs to know. The only actual test would be to head out into the world and see if she can apply what she’s learned.

The moment she orders the ticket, she reaches for her phone, not bothering with FaceTime and placing it to her ear. She hasn’t bothered to check Parrish’s schedule this time, so she might as well ensure he can answer. The phone rings once, twice before there’s a click, and she hears his voice on the other end.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Nope, I was just about to clock out and go change. How’re things going with Meredith?”

“They’re going well. Very well, actually.” She pauses as she shifts to lean back against the headboard again. “I think I’ve learned pretty much all she can teach me.”

“So does that mean …”

“I’ve already booked my ticket. Think you can still pick me up at the airport?”

“I’ll be there, send me the details. I have to break up with my other girlfriend.” He’s teasing from his tone, and she laughs.

“Oh, so you’ve replaced me already, have you?”

“Just temporarily. Like a rental girlfriend.”

“I see. Well, you’re about to get the real thing back. I hope you like the new and improved model.”

“I always did love new and improved.” She can hear the smile in his voice as she settles. “Are you sure you’re ready to come home?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “I’ve done all I can here, and the only way I’ll be able to test what I’ve learned is actually to go out and do it. And I’d much rather put in the practical work in Beacon Hills, with the people I love.”

“Good. Because we’ve missed you. A lot.”

“I’ve missed you too.” She takes a deep breath. “I’ll send you my itinerary as soon as I get off the phone. And I should let you leave the station.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

set 3 | touch me gently like a summer evening breeze ~ spamalot ~ 800

[iluvroadrunner6]

A calm sea breeze comes off the shore as Lydia stretches out next to Parrish. She probably shouldn’t have opted for another vacation after her return from Meredith’s, but when everyone you live with is heading off to the beach, you hardly say no. Especially considering she’s technically still on summer vacation anyway.

Cora and Stiles had disappeared inside to wrestle their little ones into bed and take some time to themselves, so for now, they stay where they are, enjoying the solitude of the Krisanovs’ beachfront property. Two half-glasses of wine sit on the table in front of them as they languish in the early evening.

“Want to take a walk?” he asks, as she tips her head back to look at him.

“Mmmm. Maybe.” She’s feeling lazy and not wanting to move, but the idea of getting away from the house a little bit isn’t a terrible idea. “How far are we going to go?”

“Just down to the water?” He glances down at his watch. “I don’t think anyone will miss us, given how long Cora and Stiles have been gone.”

Lydia smirks. “Think they’re taking advantage of their own alone time?”

He laughs. “More or less.”

Lydia nods, stretching her limbs a bit as she shifts to get up. “Alright. A little walk on the water wouldn’t hurt before bed.”

Parrish reaches out and takes her hand, giving it a slight squeeze as they make their way down to the shoreline. The ocean water is cooling as it rushes over their feet, and Lydia pauses just at the edge of the surf to feel herself sink further into the wet sand. Closing her eyes, she takes in the quiet, only interrupted by the gently rolling waves.

“You know, I never thought I would feel this relaxed again,” she smiles as she lifts one foot to wash off some of the sand. “I was prepared to be scared of myself for the rest of my life.”

“Even I could have told you that that’s no way to live,” he murmured, coming up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist, pushing her up on her toes a bit to match his taller height. “I’m glad you figured a way out of it.”

“You say like you didn’t find Meredith and dropped her into my lap to help me.”

“Hey, I may have done the heavy lifting in finding another banshee for you to learn from,” he smirks as he turns her to face him, letting his fingers lace at the small of her back. “But it wouldn’t have done much if you didn’t choose to get yourself out of it. That was important too.”

She smiles as his head dips down to kiss her, and she nods in agreement. “Still. Thank you for giving me the means to pull my head out of my ass.”

“Anytime.” He runs his thumb along her spine gently as he keeps her close. “Because hopefully, this means we can start taking other important steps.”

“Like getting a place together?” Lydia looks up at him with a smile.

He tips his head to the side curiously. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Derek’s house on the preserve is almost finished. He did email me while I was in Chicago to see if I was interested in it.”

“What’d you say?”

“I said I’d have to talk to you. And at the time, I was still in the learning process and wasn’t sure how much progress I was going to make, but now that I’m on the other side of it, I was thinking about checking to see if the offer was still open.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I’m not sure of anything,” she points out. “And Meredith warned me that there would be setbacks, and I would have to deal with that. But a brilliant person pointed out once that I’ll never know if I’m going to be ready unless I try.”

“That person sounds very smart.”

“He is. I kinda like that about him.”

He glances down at her with a broad smile before leaning in to kiss her again. “Then I think you should tell Derek yes.”

She grins widely in response before nodding. “Good. I will.”

As he pulls back, his smile turns a little more mischievous. “You know, the nice thing about a private beach …”

She laughs before shaking her head. “Uh-uh. That look is a recipe for sand in uncomfortable places and an awkward trip to the ER.”

He laughs in response before turning to pull them back towards the beach house. “Then perhaps I can entice you to take this walk back to our bedroom?”

Lydia nods in return, allowing him to carry her away. “I think that sounds like a great idea.”

set 3 | yet it's you who's now royally screwed ~ spamalot ~ 1,000

[iluvroadrunner6]

“Lydia.”

Lydia cringes, but she plasters on a smile all the same. Parrish squints in confusion, likely because he knows the difference between a genuine smile and not. Lydia knows she doesn’t have time to explain fully, but she flashes him a reassuring look.

“I’ll explain after.” She turns when she feels the hand on her shoulder and tries to play it up like this is a good surprise instead of a terrible one. “Aurora. What a surprise.”

“I thought the same,” Aurora nods, holding up her glass as she considers the other woman. “It has been too long, hasn’t it? When was the last time we saw each other?”

“You know, I honestly don’t remember. But it’s not as though I’ve been counting the days.”

“Mmmm,” Aurora dismisses the snide remark before turning her attention to the man over Lydia’s shoulder. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your date?”

“Of course. Jordan Parrish, Aurora de Martel.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jordan replies as he reaches out to offer his hand, and Aurora continues to eye him curiously as she smiles.

“Oh, no, the pleasure is truly all mine,” Aurora smirks. “I always knew Lydia had … refined taste, but who knew she would be so lucky.”

“What are you doing here, Aurora?” Lydia asks, tipping her head to the side. “I didn’t realize you had an invitation to the party.”

“Talia Hale holds an alpha summit, and you expect my brother not to attend?” She raises an eyebrow curiously in return. “He is, after all, the alpha of the De Martel Pack.”

“Him, yes. But that doesn’t explain you.”

“Well, as his second, I am here to make sure that nothing untoward befalls him. Though I’m quite surprised you are attending. Last I checked, you were not a werewolf.”

“Talia isn’t quite as exclusionary as your brother is,” Lydia tips her head to the side. “Besides, you’d be surprised how many packs want to get in good with the local banshee.”

“I’m sure.” Aurora glances around the room. “You haven’t seen Klaus, have you? I was so hoping he and Hayley would be in attendance.”

“He’s here,” Lydia nods. “I’m sure if you head towards the bar, you’ll find him.”

“Lovely. Always good to check in on old friends. And what about the Dunbar boy, Liam? I heard he might have recently inherited some new … talents.”

That has Lydia tensing, the grip on her glass tightening. “I don’t know if he’ll be attending tonight, no. I’ll have to check with his parents.”

“Well, if you do hear something, let me know. It’s not often that an old family like the DeBriars gets some new blood.” Aurora smiles softly and waves the fingers of her champagne hand in their direction. “As I said, truly lovely to meet you, Jordan. Pleasure as always, Lydia.”

With that, the redhead turns to leave, and Lydia watches her go before turning back to her boyfriend. “We need to find Liam.”

“Who was that, again?”

Lydia doesn’t respond right away, taking his hand and weaving their way through the crowd. Eventually, she finds Derek, invited to shadow Peter as the incoming second, and she reaches for his wrist gently.

“Is Liam here?”

Derek shakes his head. “He’s at home with the kids; why?”

“I’m gonna go check on him.” She starts to pull away, but Derek grabs her wrist.

“Lydia, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Yet.” She squeezes his hand gently in return before nodding to the other redhead across the room. “Just keep an eye on the de Martels.”

Derek eyes her carefully before nodding and letting her go. Lydia continues to lead Parrish out of the building and into the parking lot before he stops short and turns her to face him.

“Lydia, what’s going on? Who is that woman?”

“Aurora de Martel is many things, including Klaus’ psychopath ex and just a generally unpleasant person. More importantly, the de Martels were close allies with Liam’s psycho grandfather, and after we murdered DeBriers, they recruited the Mikaelsons aunt, Dahlia, to be their new emissary.” Lydia reaches for the passenger side of the Jeep. “I’m not sure what they’re after, but I’m pretty sure Aurora isn’t here to Mean Girls her way back into Klaus’ heart again. I think she’s here for something bigger.”

“And we’re leaving because?”

“Liam’s the closet blood relation, and I wouldn’t put it past them to involve blood magic?”

“Got it.” He slides into the driver’s seat before nodding. “Let’s go check on him.”

* * * * *

A few hours later, Derek and Fiona return home to the house to find all of their children intact, and Parrish and Lydia camped out on the couch. He seems relieved, and Fiona heads to check on everyone while Derek moves to drop into an armchair nearby.

“Did you notice anything?”

Derek shakes his head. “Aurora and Tristan seemed perfectly amicable all evening. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Are you sure they’re coming for Liam?”

Lydia shrugs, shaking her head. “I don’t think we can be too careful. It might be good to keep Liam close until they leave. There are what, two more days of this summit?”

Derek nods. “That’s a lot of time for something to go wrong.”

Before Lydia can agree, her phone buzzes next to her, and so does Derek’s. She frowns as she goes to reach for her device, but just as she’s pulling up the message in the group chat, Fiona comes down the stairs in a thunder, phone in hand.

“Klaus is missing.”

Lydia glances between her and Derek and grimaces. “Looks like we spoke too soon.”

Fiona raises an eyebrow at the two of them. “Do you guys know something I don’t?”

Lydia nods once before taking Parrish’s hand and pulling him to his feet. “Derek can explain. We are going to go pay a visit to an alpha.” And for better or worse, it’s going to be a long night.

set 3 | tell me everything's not fine ~ spamalot ~ 1,800

[iluvroadrunner6]

It’s nearly three in the morning when Freya Mikaelson knocks on Parrish and Lydia’s door.

Of all the Mikaelsons, Freya is the one Lydia knows the least. A trophy reclaimed from the trip to try and rescue Derek’s son. She had been separated from the rest of the Mikaelsons most of their life, so when Lydia first entered Klaus and Elijah’s life, she was nothing but a distant memory. But now she’s here, at Lydia’s door at three in the morning, and Lydia can’t help but admit that this wasn’t the best first impression.

“Freya.” She swallows hard. “It’s … very late.”

“I know. Elijah said that I should wait until morning, but I don’t think we’re going to have that kind of time.” Freya shifts awkwardly at the threshold of the door, waiting for an invitation, and when one doesn’t come: “May I come in?”

Lydia hesitates before nodding and stepping to the side, pulling the door open further. Once the witch steps inside, Lydia closes the door and crosses her arms. “I haven’t sensed Klaus’s death if that’s what you’re here about.”

“I’m not.” Freya stops midway into the living room before turning to face the banshee. “Well … I’m not here because I’m concerned Dahlia is going to kill him. I’m afraid that she’s going to break him.”

Lydia frowns, concerned, before making her way further into the room. “Explain.”

“Malcolm DeBriers’ alpha power was unstable. While some of the reason he lived as long as he did was natural werewolf longevity, he and my aunt were … experimenting with less than natural means as well, which had less than pleasant implications for his mind. Klaus stole it from him, adjustments for longevity intact, but he’ll have to live quite a long time to become quite as broken.”

“But you think Dahlia wants to speed up the process.”

“I do,” Freya nods. “And knowing my brother as I do, I know that he would rather kill himself than be lost to madness. We were working on a means of augmenting his lifespan when …”

“Your aunt interfered and kidnapped him. Still doesn’t explain why you’re knocking on my door at three in the morning.”

“Because if I try to locate my brother by magical means, my aunt will likely already have protections in place. But you, she won’t be able to protect against.”

“So you want to use my banshee-dar to find your brother?”

“Yes.” Then, with a pause, almost as though she remembers that she should ask permission first. “If you’ll let me.”

Lydia crosses her arms in front of her chest. She is steadier in her banshee abilities than she used to be; this seems like the potential to open her up to something scarier. Teasing the edges of what might be versus what is.

“How does it work?”

“I’ll cast a spell that opens you up to your potential. To the deaths that haven’t solidified themselves yet. You will have to focus and use whatever bond with Klaus to anchor yourself to his specific potential. And then your abilities will do the rest.”

“I’ll go into a fugue state?”

“Possibly.”

Lydia hesitates because after fighting so hard for her new level of control, she’s not sure she wants to give it up again. She’s not sure where she’ll land on the other side or if she even trusts Freya to guide her there. But before she can say otherwise, another voice comes from the stairs.

“Then I’m going with you.”

The two women both turn and see Parrish standing there, clearly having followed their voices down from upstairs. Freya looks like she’s about to protest, but Lydia shakes her head. “No. That’s the deal. Someone goes with me – so either you wait for the morning and one of the Hale werewolves to be available, or you let the dragon come.”

Freya draws her lips together. “The more people we bring with us, the more clouded the potential deaths maybe.”

“Don’t worry. I’m tough to kill.” Parrish heads to the kitchen. “I’ll make the coffee.”

Lydia turns to the witch and raises an eyebrow. Freya huffs before nodding her agreement. “Fine. But we need to work quickly.”

“Then I’ll go get dressed,” Lydia nods, turning to head back upstairs. They’re likely going to have a long night ahead of them.

* * * * *

The spell itself isn’t as heavy as her previous states, which in some ways is a blessing. There’s a specific loss of control involved, but given that she needs to search with intent for a particular potential dead person, she’s still relatively cognizant of what she’s doing. Shortly after the spell is cast, she finds herself able to hone in on Klaus easily, which isn’t as comforting as she would have liked. It means that Klaus is likely considering his options – homicide or suicide, how much time he has, how much torture he can withstand.

She can feel his pain more acutely, and each time he spits blood and curses back at his captors, she tastes a tangy metallic flavor in the back of her mouth.

However, the downside is that she’s so caught up in Klaus that she doesn’t even realize that she drove there when they arrive at the house. As she comes out of her fugue, she turns to Parrish in the passenger’s seat next to her.

“This is it.”

Parrish then glances back to Freya, who nods as she slides out of the back seat.

“Let’s go get my brother.”

Lydia starts to reach for the door, but Parrish stops to steady her when she starts to sway, the come down from the spell much heavier than she anticipated. He shakes his head. “Stay here. Freya and I will be right back.”

She knows she’s in no shape to protest, so she nods in response. “Be careful.”

“I will.” He squeezes her hand one last time before climbing out of the car and sneaking towards the building with Freya.

For a long time, there’s nothing but silence. Hundreds of potential futures churn together in her head, trying to determine which one will come out on top. She can feel the struggle building – is it Freya, is it Dahlia, is it Aurora or Tristan? Fortunately, none of the names that come to the forefront are Parrish’s, but it’s only a matter of time before the Russian roulette spins his way.

There’s something urgent inside her, a kind of feeling where she can’t bring herself to stay put, not now, not yet. She opens the door to the car and slides out onto the pavement, making sure she’s steady on her feet before letting them carry her, taking her where she needs to go.

She’s led to a door on the opposite side of the fighting. Lydia hears the frantic heartbeat of an alpha werewolf thudding urgently. Gently, she pushes open the door and finds Klaus, bloody swaths dripped through his clothing and chained to a far wall. He turns on her with a snarl, blinded with rage, but the wrath falls away to confusion when he sees who it is.

“Lydia? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to rescue you, obviously.” She quickly makes her way closer to examine the chains and see if she can get them open. The lack of keys is a problem, but she reaches up and pulls out one of her hairpins to go to work.

“A lock picking genius, I see?”

“I spent a lot of time on my own with nothing but YouTube videos to keep me company.” The first cuff pops off, and she moves to the second. “Are you complaining?”

Klaus flashes her a broad smile before shaking his head. “I would never, love. This rescue is yours; I’m just here to look pretty.”

She shakes her head at him before the second cuff pops, and Klaus is free to move about the cabin. He stretches upwards, part of him already shifting like he’s ready for battle when Klaus starts to sway, clearly not as steady on his feet as he needs to be. Lydia reaches up to brace him, trying to hold him as stable as she can, and once he finds his footing, his nose begins to twitch.

“What is it?” she asked curiously.

“Fire,” he replies in return. Two seconds later, Parrish and Freya burst through the door. Parrish’s eyes are glowing, with embers forming around him like a halo, and Freya looks relieved to see her brother alive, moving quickly to help Lydia steady him.

“No worse for wear, I hope?” she asks, and Klaus flashes her a smile.

“You are certainly a sight for sore eyes, sister.”

“I thought you were supposed to stay in the car,” Parrish commented, and Lydia shrugs.

“I was seizing an opportunity.” She then shifts Klaus’s weight. “A little help before the place burns down?”

Parrish stoops to take her place under Klaus’s arm, and with that, they make their escape out the door and into the fields behind them.

* * * * *

By the time the sun rises, despite the house burning down, they only achieved three-quarters of Freya’s goal for the night. Klaus, rescued, the de Martels, dead, but Dahlia had managed to escape and would likely find another way to come at them soon. After saying their thank you’s, Freya took Klaus off to rest and heal while Parrish and Lydia returned to their apartment.

“I honestly just want to collapse into bed,” Lydia sighs, pausing at the couch to take her shoes off. Parrish passes her to drop onto the sofa, holding out one hand to pull her closer.

“We can do that,” he says as she follows his lead, curling up into his shoulder. “We don’t have anything else to do today.”

Lydia shakes her head. “Mmm. But not too long, though. We wouldn’t want to screw over our sleep schedule completely.”

Parrish nods as he yawns before quickly shifting them so that they’re both stretched out on the couch together. “Maybe a little nap.”

Lydia nods in agreement, tucking herself under one arm as she started to close her eyes. “Thank you, by the way.”

Parrish rubs her arm curiously as he keeps her close. “For what?”

“For trusting me,” she sighs. “For not trying to force me to play it safe. But also for coming with me when I needed it.”

He hums before nodding against her shoulder. “Anytime.”

“Love you,” she murmurs, feeling sleep already coming to claim her.

“Love … too.” Parrish is out not long after.

And if they happen to wake up to a fully catered lunch delivered directly into their kitchen, well – never let it be said that the Mikaelsons aren’t grateful.

set 4 | that you give to me the day i wandered ~ spamalot ~ 951

[iluvroadrunner6]

“We should do it.”

The statement comes as Nik and Derek sit around in the backyard of Derek’s house, enjoying the fresh air and the tantalizing scent of Fiona’s barbecue. There are more than a few beers between them –not uncommon with their werewolf metabolisms – but they’ve drunk them fast enough that their critical thinking skills might be a little … off.

Derek glances over at him curiously and not at all suspicious; if Nik were sober would claim that was probably his first mistake. “Do what?”

“Take the cross-country bike trip.” Derek’s eyebrows climb in response, and Nik nods vigorously. “We’ve been talking about it for years, man. You and me, the open road … it’ll be great.”

Derek starts to nod slowly, and Nik can see his wife’s suspicious head begin to turn. Marissa nudges Fiona, drawing her attention from the food cooking in front of her to where Nik is bamboozling her husband, but Nik continues, undeterred.

“I mean, you said it yourself that the novel’s been stalling. It’s because you’ve been stuck here in Beacon Hills. You need a break to get the creative juices flowing. And the school’s almost out, right? So it’s not like you wouldn’t have plenty of time.”

“That was a reason I could give before I had a wife and two young kids at home,” Derek points out. “I think if I abandon her for a month to go cross-country road-tripping, Fi might kill me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Fiona states as she makes her way closer, handing her husband a plate of food. Marissa also comes over to join them, settling comfortably into Nik’s lap rather than the empty chair next to him, not that Nik is complaining. Draping an arm around her waist, he waits for Fiona to continue because he can sense the “but” coming.

“But?” he prompts.

“Oh, the but is that he’ll hate it.” Fiona settles into her seat to enjoy her plate.

Derek seems offended by the intonation and turns to Fiona with a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you will not like it. You’d be miserable being trapped that long on the road.”

Derek straightens again. “I handled the one from here to Georgetown just fine.”

“Yeah. Because you slept through a lot of it.” Fiona points to him with her fork loaded with barbecue chicken before popping it in her mouth. “There’s no sleeping on a motorcycle trip. There is driving, and there is camping for the night and picking bugs out of your teeth.”

“There are helmets….”

“The helmet will not always save you, babe.”

Derek is full-on pouting at this point, and Nik is trying not to laugh. “I can handle it. Maybe this is what I need to do. To … break out of the rut and reconnect with nature.” Fiona’s face is unmoving but not discouraging, and eventually, he huffs and gets up. “I’m going to get another beer.”

As Derek gets up to do just that, Nik turns to look at Fiona curiously. “You know that telling him he’ll hate it is just going to make him want to do it more, right?”

Fiona raises an eyebrow in return. “We’ll see how long he lasts when he’s slept on it and has less beer in his system.” Nik knows her well enough that Derek is his problem to deal with once they hit the road, so she’s not bothered either way.

Nik, buffered by beer and the fact that Fiona always knows how to rile him a bit too easily, reaches for his beer and nods. “Challenge accepted.”

Marissa glances between the two of them before shaking her head. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

* * * * *

A few days later, Nik gets a phone call, and he doesn’t bother glancing at the caller ID before pressing it to his ear. “Hello?”

“We’re doing it.”

“What are we doing?” Nik thinks he knows what he means, but he wants to verify to be sure.

“We’re taking that cross-country bike trip.”

“Seriously?” Nik’s delighted, a smile crossing his face as he listens. “Fi didn’t talk you out of it?”

“Just because she thinks I’m going to hate it doesn’t mean I actually will. Never know until you try, right?” He hears Derek shifting around in his office and then clicking at the computer. “Leave from here, pick a few places to stop and check in on the way, and then end in New York?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Nik grins. “This is going to be a blast, man. You’ll see.”

“Send me a list of everything I need to get. And maybe if you swing into town this weekend, we can go bike shopping?”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll build the itinerary too. I know some good spots to camp.” And also a few motels to crash in so that they could have a break from the road. It is his first time, after all. “This is going to be great, man. I’m excited.”

“Me too. See you later.”

Nik hangs up as Marissa makes her way into the room and shakes her head. “Don’t be too mean to him, alright? It’s his first time.”

“I will be an acceptable level of mean, I promise.” Nik hooks an arm around Marissa’s waist as he pulls her closer. “Think you can handle being without me for a bit this summer?”

She smiles as she leans in to kiss him before nodding in agreement. “I think I can make it work. You’ll have to make it up to me when you get back.”

“Absolutely,” he murmurs into the kiss. “I am more than up to that task.”

set 4 | like a band of gypsies we go down the highway ~ spamalot ~ 754

[iluvroadrunner6]

They make it to the midway point a few days in, and Derek is still feeling good. Nik is impressed.

Not that he’s complaining about the quality time – it’s been years since it’s been just the two of them doing something, and the fact that they’re doing one of Nik’s favorite things counts for a lot. He didn’t think it was Derek’s thing, so when they slide into the leathery booths of one of his favorite diners outside of Oklahoma City, just before they start turning North.

Derek groans as he settles in across from him, stretching back against the seat. “We’re still getting a motel room tonight, right?”

Nik nods as the waitress swings by to leave a couple of glasses of water. He reaches for his once it’s poured, taking a long drink. “That was what I promised you, yes.”

“Think we might be able to upgrade to something with a bath?” Derek asks hopefully. “I’m feeling pretty stiff.”

“That’s what she said.”

Derek gives him a look before laughing. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah. We can stay somewhere fancy.” Nik certainly wouldn’t complain about sleeping on a proper bed and giving his muscles a chance to loosen up. “I think you’ve earned it after the last few nights camping.”

Derek raises his glass gratefully before glancing around. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Nik nods. “You’ve been keeping up pretty well, though. Have you been enjoying it?”

“Yeah,” Derek nods, a small smile crossing his face. “This has been freeing, actually.”

“You think so?”

Derek nods again. “I mean, Yeah, I miss my kids, and I miss Fi, but … things get so crazy back home. There are always things to do and things happening. It’s nice to be able to be in my own head for a little while.”

“Most people would consider that a bad thing.”

“Maybe. But it’s nice to disconnect.”

“Fair enough.” The waitress comes and takes their orders, and Nik waits until she leaves to continue. “Honestly, I’ve been suffering from a bit of the same lately. I love my kids and my wife, but I can’t just drop everything and justify a cross-country road trip anymore. I’ve missed this.”

“I don’t blame you,” Derek smirks. “So I guess you should be thanking me for giving you an excuse, huh?”

Nik smirks back. “Something like that. Maybe we should be making this a regular thing.”

Derek raises his eyebrows. “You think so?”

Nik nods. “Yeah, it could be fun. Once a year, we pick a place to start and stop. Maybe Fi, Marissa, and the kids can meet us somewhere along the way. Spend a week at a national park or resort destination.”

“A yearly co-family vacation.” Derek nods with a grin. “I like it. You think the girls will go for it?”

“I think I can convince them.” Nik can at least convince Marissa. If they pick a park close to Vegas, she might take that as an excuse to get the hot rod out for a little while. “Fi might be the hard sell.”

Derek considers before his phone buzzes with a text from the wife in question. “I think I can convince her to make it work.”

“Well, if anyone could, it’d be you. You’ve certainly been married to Fi long enough.”

“Yeah, I have.” He flashes another smile, this time a little wider and more genuine. All these years later, and he’s still in love with his wife. At least that’s something, given all they’ve been through together. “I think she could use a break more than she’d care to admit. She doesn’t want to drive there and have to manage the kids on her own.”

“Fair enough, she can fly.” Nik nods in agreement, looking out the window to the road ahead of them. Yeah, that is doable. “I think that could work.”

“Good. Give us something to look forward to.”

A few minutes later, the waitress swings in with their meals, and they go to town, inhaling their food for their next stretch on the road. While they do, Nik checks to make sure there’s a hotel that fits Derek’s specifications on their route. Once he’s nailed one down and makes sure they have a room available, he glances up to his fellow traveler with a smile.

“Ready to hit the road again?”

“Is there a hot shower and a real bed at the end of it?” Nik nods, and Derek grins. “Then yeah, man. Let’s hit the road.”

set 4 | now that i have some direction ~ spamalot ~ 833

[iluvroadrunner6]

They arrive in New York just before dinner fourteen days after they left Beacon Hills.

In theory, it shouldn’t have taken them that long. Derek had an itinerary of places for him to stop to keep him engaged, rather than bored on the road, and between that, the campsites and the days off give their bodies a break, what would have been a grueling grind felt more like a stroll. That still doesn’t change Nik’s urge to flop face-first into his bed when they reached his brother’s penthouse apartment.

“You made it!” Victor smirks as he throws his arms around his brother. “You smell like shit.”

“Nice to see you too,” Nik comments before catching a scent coming from the other room. “Is that pizza?”

“Did someone say pizza?” Derek’s head pops in over his shoulder. “Can I have some?”

Leah laughs at her brother-in-law before gesturing for him to come closer for a hug. “You look like you had a good time.”

“Oh, it was great,” Derek grins, returning the hug. “But I think I need like five showers before I’m suitable for human noses, let alone werewolf ones.”

“Good thing we have multiple bathrooms,” Leah gestures to the guest room where he’ll be crashing. “Go clean up, and I’ll put in an order for some more pizza. We weren’t sure when you two were getting in, so we ordered modestly.”

Derek nods in agreement before wandering off to the shower. Nik smirks at his sister-in-law before pulling her in for a hug.

“Thanks for giving us a place to crash at the end.”

“Of course. You’re always welcome on our metaphorical couch.” Leah pulls back with a smirk. She waits until the bathroom door closes and the water is running before she tips her head to the side. “So, how’d he do?”

“Not bad,” Nik smirks. “Not my usual pace, but it was nice to share it with someone else for a change.”

“I’m sure,” she nods. “I know for the last couple of days Fi was worrying that there would be a tragic road accident and you wouldn’t make it to New York.”

Nik raises an eyebrow. “She knows how many times I’ve made this trip.”

“Of course she does. But her husband is also a danger magnet.”

Nik laughs before shaking his head. “I’m gonna go clean up. Make sure he saves me some pizza.”

Leah nods. “You got it, big guy.”

* * * * * *

A couple of hours later, they were sitting out on the enclosed terrace with a couple of beers and some empty pizza boxes between them. Nik takes another pull on his beer before turning back to his traveling partner.

“Talk to the wife yet?”

Derek nods. “Told her I made it to the other side, safe and sound, and did not get eaten by a bear.”

Nik smirks. “Good. Sick of me yet?”

At that question, the other man laughs. “Maybe a little. But by the time we see each other again, I’ll be over it.”

“Fair enough,” Nik nods, leaning back in his seat. “Planning on enjoying the flight home?”

“Immensely.” Derek grins. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to leave the bike here?”

“Yeah, Victor owns that portion of the garage. You can keep it there until the next time you need to use it.”

“Good,” Derek nods. “Because I was serious with what I said. During the summer, we should make this a yearly thing.”

“Just swap the bikes back and forth between garages?”

“Something like that. Seems like an easy enough plan, and then we only have to spend airfare from one end.”

Nik nods. “Sounds good, then. We’ll pick the dates for next year once we’re back home.”

“Good.” Derek pauses for a moment, letting his eyes wander down over the city from their soundproofed box, far above the city streets. “I have to say; the noise isn’t something I missed.”

“He says before he returns to his house in the middle of a nature preserve.”

Derek flashes Nik a look at that before shaking his head. “Even there, there’s still noise. Kid noise, electronic noise, TV noise. It was nice to disconnect for a little while.”

“Well, I’m sure your kids will be happy to have you back. Especially Lucy. From what Leah said, she’s been an unholy terror while you were gone.”

“She wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh, so she’s not a total daddy’s girl.”

Derek grins the grin of a man who knows he’s completely wrapped around his little girl’s finger. “Well, I didn’t say that. But she knows better than to be that terrible for Fiona.”

“Sure she does,” Nik smirks.

“You say that like Anya doesn’t do the same?”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Nik shakes his head. “My daughter is an angel.” And no one will be able to tell him otherwise, not even his wife.

Derek laughs before leaning forward and holding out his beer for a toast. “To next year?”

Nik smiles as he looks up, clinking his bottle against Derek’s. “To next year.”

set 5 | and i always get these dangerous dreams ~ regency au ~ 1,214

[iluvroadrunner6]

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Mercy stops in the entryway to the study, eyes turning towards her father in surprise. Her father, head of the Durand household, stands from his seat as he approaches his daughter, eyeing her attire distastefully. She isn’t sure if it’s the expense the gown represents or how she’s wearing it, but the disgust in his eyes is enough to have her take a step backwards, fingers curling around the velvety edges of her cloak to cover herself somewhat.

“To the ball,” she replies promptly, though her voice quivers, almost as though she isn’t sure if her response should be a question. “The Eastons invited me.”

“Ah.” Lord Durand eyes his daughter skeptically, before shaking his head. “And you’re wearing that?”

“It’s fashionable.”

“It’s indecent.” She sees him eyeing the neckline of her gown and she curls in herself more. It’s not as though much is showing, but being a buxom woman, she shows more than most. She knows her father is all too aware of this, and sees fit to shame her for it whenever he can.

As though she controls it.

Swallowing, she straightens some in response. “Are you intending to keep me from the ball?”

“Do you not have another dress to wear? I’m sure your intended would not be pleased to see you trouncing about were he there.”

She looks up at him, alarmed at the phrasing of that statement. “Intended?”

“Yes.” Lord Durand clears his throat. “I was coming to find you. The Duke of Concord has made an offer for your hand.”

The statement slaps her in the face. Of all the names for her father to pull out of his hat, that name makes her heart sink. “The Duke of Concord is nearly sixty.”

“And yet, he still doesn’t have an heir. He thinks a young, healthy wife will secure his legacy, should you conceive before he dies.”

“So you’re selling me into service as a broodmare.”

She knows better than to say the words, but yet they fall from her lips, anyway. She knows her father’s opinions on women and marriage. They are there to facilitate extending family lines, nothing more. Her mother spent her entire life miserable, and Mercy had hoped that when she got married, she would have the chance to escape and a chance to choose. But of course, that wouldn’t be the case.

Her father’s stern stare freezes her in place, and she swallows back any further comments. “You should consider yourself lucky. The Duke is quite wealthy. You will live in considerable comfort. Perhaps some gratitude should be in order.”

“How can I be, when you make all my choices for me, and I have no options to choose for myself?”

“It never was your decision to make.”

Mercy grits her teeth. “So does this mean I am not to go to the ball? I already accepted the invitation. It would be rude for me to not attend.”

Lord Durand stands in the doorway, scrutinizing her dress and weighing his options, before shaking his head. “No, you may go. But I will expect you to devote most of your time at the London tourney to getting to know your new betrothed.”

“Fine.” Mercy takes a breath before turning and rushing out the door as quickly as she can, not allowing him to change his mind. She will have a say in some parts of her life. She just has to determine how.

* * * * *

“The Duke of Concord?”

Isabelle’s face mirrors Mercy’s from when she learned the news, and she can’t help but suppress a shudder. Cordelia also seems horrified as the three girls sit at their table in the back of the ballroom. Normally she would try to indulge in dancing and drink, but tonight she can’t bring herself to be her normal, vibrant self. Not with this wedding weighing over her.

“He’s ancient,” Cordelia whispers, one hand resting over her heart. “Has your father lost his mind?”

“He must have.” Mercy swirls the wine in her hand. “There is nothing about any of this that seems pleasant or preferable.”

“Well, there’s one upside to his being old.” Sweeping her blond hair over one shoulder, Isabelle takes another sip of her wine. “Being ancient, the marriage won’t last long. But on the downside, I’m sure he wants an heir, so they might expect you to…” She makes a crude gesture and Mercy shudders.

“God, could you imagine?” She knows it’s shallow of her, but she the thought of being intimate with him in that way makes her want to gag. “I don’t know if I could even look at him.”

“Maybe you won’t have to,” Cordelia shrugs. “You can close your eyes and think of someone else? Lie back and think of England, as my mother would say. Or Chester Lowell.”

Mercy can’t help the giggle that escapes her lips at the idea of bedding Chester, the handsomest man in court. “Now that would be a match.”

“Mmm.” Isabelle smiles before leaning forward and resting her chin in her hand. “Or Derek Hale.” Cordelia and Mercy both turn to blink at her in return, and Isabelle looks between the both of them, scandalized. “You’ve never seen Derek Hale?”

“No, clearly. The suspense is killing us,” Cordelia replies dryly.

Isabelle is more well-traveled than the both of them, her parents wanting to invest in her educations and have been using the tourneys and their daughter’s wiles to find allies in other countries in their quest for political dominance. Isabelle has no interest in either, but she enjoys speaking of foreign men. Isabelle smiles at them both, before gesturing for them to lean in closer, as though she’s sharing a secret.

“The Hales are a Norwegian family. Very old, very powerful. Derek is the only son, and he often fights in the ring during tourneys. So handsome. And when the ladies at court speak of him… let’s just say, I’ve yet to hear anyone disappointed by the experience.”

“So he’s a rake is what you’re saying.” Cordelia points out.

“Obviously. But a delicious one.” Isabelle leans back to take another sip of her wine. “If you’re going to lie back and fantasize about someone not your husband, it might as well be a dirty fantasy.”

Cordelia wrinkles her nose in response, and the conversation wanders on to other things. Mercy, though, has ceased paying attention. Maybe it’s anger at her father, maybe it’s righteous indignation, but she already has a plan forming.

Why simply fantasize when she could try Derek Hale for herself?

“Is he coming to the London tourney?”

Her companions seem thrown by the change in conversation. “Who?” Isabelle asks.

“Derek Hale.” Her friends look at her, confused. “If I’m going to fantasize, I might as well know who I’m fantasizing about, no?”

“He might,” Isabelle shrugs. “Do you want me to point him out to you if I see him?”

Mercy nods. “I would appreciate it.”

Conversation fades back to normal, and Mercy leans back into her seat with a smile as she finishes her wine. Her father can’t make all of her choices for her. Some she will make for herself—even if it has the chance of ruining her.

set 5 | something like a dream come true ~ regency au ~ 1,105

[iluvroadrunner6]

“Mercy!”

Isabelle waves to her from the stands near the fighting ring as Mercy and her father make their way onto the field for the London tourney. She waves in return before glancing back to her father.

“Is it alright if I sit with Isabelle?”

Lord Durand frowns, his eyes scanning for their guests. “Today is to spend time with your betrothed.”

Every time he says the word “betrothed” it makes her skin crawl. She doesn’t want to be betrothed to anyone, and she certainly doesn’t want to be spending time with him when she could have fun at a tournament.

“Just one round? Please?”

Her father’s eyes wander to the stands again, scanning the faces, and scowls when he doesn’t find his target.

“One round. And then you return to our box.”

“Thank you,” she says with an effusive smile, squeezing his hand before darting off to join her friend. She easily navigates the sea of people, feeling the bodies press against her as she tries to find her seat. Eventually Isabelle’s hand grasps hers, tugging the other girl in close as they settle on their bench at the edge of the ring.

“There. Across the way, with dark hair. Do you see him?”

Mercy follows the line of her finger, spotting the tall man on the far side of the field. Long dark hair frames his face, along with a matching dark beard. He’s broad enough to be appealing, but not enough to be intimidating. He smiles and jokes with his fellow fighters as they strap on armor to prepare for the next bout. She can’t help but feel the flutter in her stomach as his eyes turn to scan the crowd.

For a moment, it appears he lingers on her, as though he knows he’s being watched, but she dismisses it as coincidence. He couldn’t pick her out of a crowd this size, no matter how much she may have wanted him to. She’s going to have to make an impression another way, if she wants her plan to succeed.

“Isn’t he beautiful,” Isabelle sighs. “And I’ve only heard the nicest things from the ladies who have… made use of his talents.”

Mercy raises an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

“Well, a rake is a rake, so in polite company, they likely wouldn’t discuss him at all.” Isabelle glances over and smirks at her friend. “But in less than polite company, they say that he is a man of many… gifts. And is very generous in how he shares those gifts.”

“I see.” Mercy rests her chin in her hand as she watches the fighters move into the ring for the first round. “That is very intriguing.”

“Mercy?”

She glances towards her friend and notes the concern on her face, as well as the curiosity. “You’re not intending to do something rash, are you?”

“Rash?” Mercy raises an eyebrow at her friend in return. “What would make you say that?”

“It’s just, I know you’re upset about the engagement.” Isabelle swallows hard. “Cordelia seems to think that you’re so curious about Sir Hale because you’re planning something out of spite, and we…” Her voice trails off as she tries to find the phrasing. “Let’s just say it’s not wise.”

Mercy purses her lips because she was planning to do exactly that. She intends to take something for herself rather than have things simply doled out for her. She wants to know what it feels like to enjoy this experience, rather than dread it. And if it means being rash, then she doesn’t see the harm.

“Don’t worry, Isabelle,” Mercy replies, offering her friend a smile. “I won’t do anything reckless. I’m simply… looking for a dance partner. Lord knows I won’t have much time left for it.” She nudges her friend gently. “Let’s just watch the bout.”

Isabelle offers her a small smile in return, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, leaving Mercy unsure if Isabelle has believed her ruse. But she doesn’t convince her further when she turns her attention back to the field.

At least there’s that.

* * * * *

Lord Durand didn’t want his daughter to attend the winner’s feast, but the Duke convinces him she should enjoy time with her friend while she has it—those alliances may be invaluable later. The Duke, contrary to what she expected, seems to be reasonable, someone who’s more aware of the delicate balance of this relationship than her father is. It almost makes her feel guilty for what she’s about to do.

Almost.

At the feast, Isabelle’s table sits next to the men from the Hale lands. Derek, while he fought well, did not win his match today, so he’s sitting with the rest of his men. Mercy takes the chair adjacent to his, wearing the dress that brings out the bright blue of her eyes. And, when Isabelle has wandered off to dance with a prospect of her own, she takes a big gulp of her wineglass and turns to face him.

“You fought well today.” Her voice quivers as her nerve briefly leaves her, but regardless of the noise in the room, he still hears her. Green eyes turn towards the sound of the voice, then scan over her briefly. There’s a familiar spark of interest as they catch the neckline of her dress, then back up to her face. Normally, it would have made her uncomfortable, but tonight she intends to encourage it, and smiles when his eyes meet hers again.

“Most would disagree with you.”

“Well, there’s more to the world than winning and losing,” she replies. “Hammond may have had the upper hand in terms of strength, but you had the better technique.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“My father is a blade smith. He impressed the importance of technique upon all his children.” She holds out a hand to him. “Mercy Durand.”

Recognition crosses his face as he takes her hand. “Derek Hale.” He pauses as he presses a kiss to the back of it. “A pleasure, Lady Durand.”

“Pleasure is all mine, Sir Hale. Are you escorting someone this evening?”

“No. Unfortunately, I am without the company of the fairer sex this evening.” He glances over to her table, now mostly vacant of her friends. “And you?”

She shakes her head. “How kismet.”

“Indeed.” He places his wineglass down on the table next to him before turning back to her with a smile. “If they left you to your own devices, then might I have this dance?”

She smiles widely in return, before nodding. “I would like that very much.”

set 5 | follow the sound of your heartbeat now ~ regency au ~ 972

[iluvroadrunner6]

The night continues with more wine, more dancing, more flirting. Soon she loses track of the time entirely, and when they banish the revelers from the great hall and tell them to sleep before the rounds tomorrow, she allows Derek to lead her away from the rest of the room towards the knights’ tents. She follows eagerly, trusting him to take the lead and take her where she needs to go safely.

As they round the corner towards the Hale tents, she spots a familiar face wandering through the crowds. Uncertain of how late it is, she sees the anger on her father’s face and her hand on Derek’s arm tightens her grip. Derek notices her concern and tries to follow her eyeline.

“What is it?”

“My father.”

What happens next blends into the haze of the moment, in too much wine, or at least that’s what she’ll tell herself. Derek sweeps her off the thoroughfare, and the warmth of one of the nearby tents engulfs them, keeping them out of the view of prying eyes.

“Do you think he saw us?”

Derek puts a finger to his lips, watching from the opening of the tent, keeping her out of view. She looks around, taking in her surroundings. Various knight gear pile in one corner, some of it the banner man wear of the Hales. Weaponry stands neatly ordered in the corner, and the simple cot in the corner finishes the room.

“He’s passed us for now,” Derek confirms finally from behind her. She nods before turning to face him.

“Is this your—” Her breath catches when she realizes how close he is, and they’re nearly pressed chest-to-chest. Her eyes tip up to look at him when she finally finds her voice and continues. “—tent?”

He nods, one hand resting against her side, the other allowing her thumb to brush along the line of her chin. “You can stay until you’re more sober, if you like. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your father, master blade smith that he is?”

A slow smile crosses her face as she pushes up on her toes to lean into his touch. “I don’t think he’ll look this closely. And I had other ideas in mind.” Feeling emboldened by the privacy they now have, she pushes in further, attempting to steal a kiss should he let her. His head tips away, but he doesn’t retreat or rebuff her.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs. “It’s not something you can take back.”

Mercy’s face flickers, as she didn’t think that he would be one to show concern in that respect, and tempts part of her to consider retreating, but in the end, she knows she has to seize the opportunity now. If she doesn’t, she knows she likely won’t have another.

“I am,” she replies, her voice equally low. “Unless you are not?”

His eyes seem hungry as they roam over her face, down to the curves that waited beneath. Her hands move to rest against his chest, curling into the material of his tunic as she pulls him closer. She pushes up onto her toes and kisses him fully, not giving him another chance to retreat. Some soft, tentative pecks before he meets her in them, and in some ways, it feels as though he wishes to devour her.

Want surges through her in return, and one hand comes up to wind around his neck to pull herself closer. Soon, he deepens the kiss, teasing her mouth open with his tongue, inviting her to give him everything and she responds in kind. Soon his hands move to tug at the laces of their clothing, shedding layers and gently guiding her over to the cot where they can take their time.

It can take all night if needed. She intends to enjoy this while she has it.

* * * * *

Later, when passions have cooled and the fairgrounds have quieted, she pulls away from him to gather her things. As much as she would love to stay curled up here for the rest of the evening, she knows she can’t be here in the morning. Slowly she redresses, pulling everything neatly back into place, and using the mirrored finish of his shield to fix her hair.

“Leaving so soon?”

She glances back over her shoulder to where Derek lounges on the cot, like a content cat. He doesn’t seem surprised that she’s leaving, but there’s something in his expression that she can’t quite put her finger on. A little longing, maybe, but she doesn’t let herself dwell on it for too long.

“If I’m not in my bed by the time, my father comes to wake me in the morning, I will be in more trouble.” She makes her way closer, brushing her hand against the side of his face gently. “But thank you, for this.”

His hand covers hers before turning and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Will I see you again? At the next tournament, perhaps?”

She shakes her head. “Probably not.” She has a feeling that this will be her last tournament for some time. “But you were an enjoyable escort all the same.”

Derek watches her face, before pushing up and leaning in to kiss her again, one last time. She closes her eyes as she meets him in it, before pulling away with a sigh.

“Until next time, Sir Hale.” It didn’t feel right to say goodbye.

“Until next time, Lady Durand.”

And with that, she slips out of his tent and makes her way quickly across the fairgrounds to her family’s tents. She slips back inside without her father noticing, and while she can’t say she regrets the choice, she can’t help but hope it would have lasted a little longer.

set 5 | you're a ghost and i've been cursed ~ regency au ~ 1,097

[iluvroadrunner6]

Actions have consequences, especially unintentional ones.

It takes some weeks for her to see the signs and feel the way her body is changing, but eventually she makes the connection. It isn’t until she feels sick that she confides in one maid, who sneaks her out of the castle to see one of the local doctors who will act without judgement, rather than rely on the family physicians who will betray her to her father.

It is there, in one of the cramped offices, about a week before she is to be wed to another man, that she discovers the truth: she’s pregnant. The moment the doctor utters those words, she feels the ground fall out from under her. Lord Durand will disown her, or worse. In fact, she can almost count on the “for worse” element of things to be true.

Isabelle tried to warn her. She thinks that she should have listened.

The problem is, she can’t bring herself to say the words to her father either. She knows she won’t have much longer to hide this without question. Her body is already swelling, and if her father hasn’t noticed the signs already, he likely will soon. As the days tick down to her wedding day, and they make the last preparations, the weight of the lie and everything that’s happening seems to be too much. Her father and the Duke, in discussing plans, ask her a question about wedding decorations, trying to include her, and without warning she bursts into tears.

Both men look flabbergasted, unsure what to do with a weeping woman. And in the end, it’s all she can do to turn and flee, letting her footsteps carry her out of the room and into the courtyard. She collapses onto a nearby bench as she tries to control the sobs, but they don’t stop coming, and it doesn’t take long for her father and the Duke to catch up with her.

“Mercy.” Lord Durand’s tone shows he expects no hysterics. “What is wrong with you?” The Duke hovers to her left, concern written on his weathered features, but he says nothing, waiting for her to answer the question.

She hiccups as she struggles to pull herself together. Her hands come up to swipe at the tears falling down her cheeks. “I made a mistake.” The words themselves are a lie, because she doesn’t regret it, not truly. If given the opportunity, she would do it again. But she regrets that this is going to hurt the Duke, who doesn’t deserve her thoughtlessness.

Mercy can see the storm starting behind her father’s eyes. “What kind of mistake?”

She can’t bring herself to look at him. She’s not sure she can look at the Duke either, certainly not in the eye. Her eyes focus on the juncture of his hands on the top of his elegant cane, allowing the eagle top to act as a focus.

“I’m pregnant.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees her father’s hands curl into fists, skin flushing red with the anger she knows is there. “You insolent—”

As he strides towards her, the cane she had been focusing on snaps up to come between Mercy and her father. Her eyes widen as she leans backwards, not knowing if it will be enough to stop her father. But as quickly as Lord Durand starts, he stops, his face still dark with rage.

“Henry, will you give me a moment alone with my betrothed, please?”

“But—”

“Just a moment. It seems Mercy and I have some things we need to discuss.”

Her father’s face doesn’t lose any of ire. His eyes bore down into her. But in deference to the Duke, he retreats, turning and heading back into the manor. The Duke waits, eyeing the door for a moment, before taking a deep breath and moving to sit next to her on the bench.

“Well. Isn’t this quite the pickle?”

“I’m sorry.” She swipes at her cheeks again, eyes cast to the ground. “You’ve been so kind to me, and I’ve been so stupid. But it was only once, I didn’t think…”

The Duke places a hand on her knee gently, and she turns to face him. “Mercy, I know well that I am no prize for a young girl like yourself. I’m certain that if I were in your shoes, I might have done the same.”

Mercy looks up at him, and her eyes soften. “It really was only once. I just… wanted to control something.”

“I understand.” He pauses, tapping his cane against the ground. “Who was the young man, if I may ask?”

She swallows before nodding. “Derek Hale.”

He doesn’t seem surprised. He taps the cane once more before nodding. “Hales usually have healthy children. That’s good.” He then moves to stand. “If it’s a boy, we’ll keep it.”

Mercy falters at first, and the unexpected answer has her blinking. “What?”

“I need an heir, my dear. And I have no interested in causing you any undue pain on my account. We’ll marry, and if the baby is a boy, he will be my heir.”

She nods slowly, taking in that information as she tries to figure out where to go next. She can’t help but notice that he was very specific in how he was choosing to phrase that. “What if it’s a girl?”

The duke’s face sobers. “A girl, unfortunately, will not do me much good. We will go abroad until the baby is born, so no one has questions, but if it’s a girl, we’ll have to find another solution.” He’s being charitable, if it gets him what he wants, but not that charitable.

Mercy nods her understand, her mind already trying to find a solution, just in case. But she’s not thinking too far ahead to not be grateful. “Thank you.” For saving her the shame that likely would have come if she only had her father to contend with.

The Duke gives her knee another squeeze before getting to his feet. “I’m going to go plan for the months to come. It’s up to you to contend with your father.”

Mercy’s face falls and nods again. That conversation she can’t see going much better, but at least she knows that her child, for now, will be safe.

Part of her thinks of Derek, but she knows she can’t linger long on that thought. Perhaps it’s best he never knows, given her arrangement with the Duke. After all, she’s very much hoping that it will be a son.

set 6 | and a damned old fish ~ darkest timeline ~ 1,526

[iluvroadrunner6]

“I need a favor.”

Derek’s eyes look up from his breakfast to his mother, currently standing at the stove. His eyes study her, trying to find the catch in whatever she is about to ask him, even though he doesn’t know what it is yet. Talia doesn’t ask for favors often, which means whatever it is, he’s probably going to hate it.

“What is it?”

“I need you to go with Stiles Stilinski on his cryptid case today.”

Derek groans as his head falls back, knowing that this is already not how he wants to spend his day. It’s not that he doesn’t like Stiles, exactly. It’s more that Stiles is a lot. A frenetic bottle of energy that can’t stand still, but also has magic, because the universe somehow thought that was a good idea. The last thing he wants to do is spend his day following Stiles around to make sure that he doesn’t get himself killed.

But he also knows that if his mother is asking, she’s not really giving him the option to say no.

“Why?” Talia turns and raises an eyebrow while Derek crosses his arms in front of his chest. “It’s not as though the Prices haven’t handled cases in the area before. Why so curious about this one?”

“Well, for one, this is Stiles’ first case flying solo, and I think it might be wise for him to have some backup. He’ll still be calling some shots, but it wouldn’t hurt to have some added muscle.”

“That’s why Claudia Stilinski wants me there.” Derek isn’t afraid to call his mother out on having her own agenda as far as this outing goes. He’s also certain that if Cora were here, she would be the one getting sent on this little mission.

He misses his sister, but maybe it’s for the best that she’s far away from here.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have the eyes and ears on the surrounding communities I used to.” Talia leans back against the sink, sipping her coffee. “With Peter gone, I’ve been trying to rebuild some of his old relationships. You could be good at that. Get a head start on when you’ll have to do the same for Laura.”

Derek doubts he’ll ever have that position for Laura, but she knows how much Talia misses her brother’s presence. Nodding slowly, he finishes his breakfast and gets to his feet. “When is he getting here?”

“He’ll be here in an hour. Oh, and Derek?”

Derek stops halfway to the stairs and turns to face her again. “Yeah?”

“Be careful. This is still a Price mission.”

Derek nods, before turning and heading up the stairs to get ready. This is going to be a long day.

* * * * *

It turns out Stiles is just as thrilled with this arrangement as he is. He’s not shy about sharing it either. It’s mostly something like “not needing a babysitter” and “going to take a case on his own eventually” and while Derek doesn’t disagree, he can’t help but insert after a point:

“This isn’t all about you, you know.”

Stiles turns and raises an eyebrow in his direction, clearly intending to challenge that response. “Oh? Then what is this about?”

“My mom wants me to build cryptid relationships with the local communities. For when Laura takes over as alpha.” He will not mention that it’s also because Peter ran away to New York, but Stiles doesn’t need to get a sneak peek into that family drama.

“Oh.” Stiles considers that. “So this is a networking assignment for you?”

“If you want to call it that.”

“I guess it’s better than being a glorified babysitter.”

Derek thinks he’s definitely still a babysitter, but that’s neither here nor there.

As they arrive at the lakefront beach, Derek immediately picks out the reason they’re here. Beached on the shore, stretching about eight to ten feet across, is what looks like the body of a giant squid. Dark, ink-like liquid spills out from the body, but the chest rises and falls. So whatever this thing is, it’s clearly still alive.

“What is that?” Derek asks.

“A kraken?”

“A kraken would be bigger.”

Stiles stares at him. “How do you just know that?”

Derek gives him a look. “You should know that?”

“Look, the sea is not my domain. I leave that for Uncle Mike.” Stiles pauses. “Come to think of it, I don’t really have a domain. I should work on that.”

“Can we save that rapt contemplation for when we’re done here?”

“Right, right.” Stiles shakes his head before grabbing his gear and making his way closer. On the way, he pulls out a camera to snap some pictures, and gestures for Derek to make his way around the front, to see what they’re looking at from the other side. “You know, for a giant squid, it’s kind of small. Usually they run closer to forty feet, and they don’t make it this far inland.”

“Another point in its favor for not being a kraken.” Derek makes his way around the west side of the creature, trying to take in the strange dimensions and figure out what this thing is when it moves. Wide jaws lined with seemingly endless rows of teeth twist around to grab hold of Derek, who it likely considers nearby prey.

If Derek weren’t a werewolf, he probably would have been lunch.

Derek stumbles backwards, his feet catching in the sand so much that he loses his balance and hits the ground hard. He keeps scrambling backwards, however, trying to keep away from the teeth. His eyes flash in challenge, but he fights back the snarl.

“Holy shit, this is a Mishigamaa!”

“A what?”

“You know what a kraken is, but you don’t know a Mishigamaa?”

The jaws snap down, almost catching Derek’s foot, still determined to have him for lunch. “Information, Stiles!”

“The Michigan Lake Monster! Damn, they’re not supposed to be this far west.” Stiles darts around the side, casting a wider arc than Derek did so that he can avoid the teeth. He grips Derek by the wrist to drag him out of range, leaving the unhappy plesiosaur stranded on the beach.

“So what do we do with it?” Derek asks when he comes to a stop, checking himself to make sure the sea creature didn’t actually get him. “We can’t just leave it on the beach to eat the tourists.”

“I think there might be a few Karens he could snack on.” Derek flashes him a look and Stiles winces. “But then again, they’re endangered, so we probably shouldn’t let uneducated humans make these decisions.”

Derek nods, because exactly. Stiles grimaces as he continues considering.

“Well, the freshwater lake should be fine for him. And he seems mostly uninjured. We just have to get him off the beach.”

“And how do we do that?”

Stiles taps his finger against his chin, before holding up a finger. “We’re going to need some fish, some push brooms, and a boat. And maybe a couple expendable deputies from the Sheriff’s office.”

Derek pinches his eyes closed because sure. Then he swallows as he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. “I might have some suggestions.”

“Cool.” Stiles grins as he makes his own calls. “Let’s do it.”

* * * * *

A few hours later, the plesiosaur is back in its freshwater habitat, having dined well on an inhuman amount of fish, intended to distract it as the deputies, Derek and Stiles worked on shoving it back into a manageable depth. Once it can manage its own movement, Parrish hits the gas on the boat and drives, dropping the fish as he goes to create a trail for the beast to follow. When it’s not starving, the fish are more interesting than people, so when the buffet runs out, it just disappears into the depths, hopefully never to be seen again.

“Nice,” Stiles grins when Parrish flashes them a thumbs up from the boat. “Looks like a job well done. Not bad for my first solo mission.”

“This wasn’t all that hard,” Derek replies. “These are the ones that’ll be easy.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow. “Oh, and what would be the more difficult ones?”

“The ones where you have to change a person’s mind, not just trick a hungry predator back into their natural habitat.”

“You don’t know. I can be very persuasive.” Derek heads back towards the car and Stiles turns to follow him. “Like when we drive back to town, I’m going to persuade you to be my partner.”

Derek turns back to him and raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Don’t give me that look, I know you had fun today.” Stiles flashes him a grin and claps a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, big guy, it’ll be fun.”

Derek shakes his head, even though he knows that by the time their mothers hear about it, it will not be a choice. “No, it will not.”

“You say it now, but I haven’t been persuasive yet.”

It is going to be a very long drive back to Beacon Hills.

set 6 | let me shoot a seven with every shot ~ darkest timeline ~ 1,968

[iluvroadrunner6]

“Hey, partner.”

“I’m not your partner, Stiles.”

Okay, making the approach in a coffee shop when Derek is just doing his thing is probably not the best move that Stiles could have made. Derek tolerates him on a good day, and he can’t tell from the scowl on his face whether this is a good day. Derek is frustratingly hard to read that way, but the dismissal didn’t come with a full-on Hale glare, so he’s going to take it.

“Wanna get out of town for a couple days?”

That seems to get his interest. It briefly shows from behind his usual mask of indifference, a spark of curiosity about what Stiles might offer if it means leaving Beacon Hills.

“And go where?”

“Vegas?”

Now, Derek looks confused. “Why are we going to Vegas?”

“Because Aunt Rose said there was something funky going on at one of the smaller casinos, but she can’t get in because psychopomp.” Stiles steps in closer, lowering his voice. “Whoever is doing this is smart enough to ward it against ghosts.”

Derek takes a long sip of his coffee, before tipping his head to the side, indicating that they should probably take this conversation out of the local Beacon Hills coffee shop. Stiles nods before following, moving to lean against his Jeep on the opposite side of the parking lot from where most people are hanging out.

“Did she give more specifics, other than ‘funky’?” Derek asks, leaning against the hood of the Jeep as he takes another sip of his coffee.

“She said that people are going in, but they’re not coming out. And that the people who are out are… off. They’ve lost time and their brain chemistry is all off.”

“It’s Vegas. Did they take something?”

“Not that kind of off.” Stiles shakes his head. “A doctor friend explained it to me, but basically it’s like their brains have been OD-ing on serotonin. They’re just… deliriously happy—literally—and it’s killing them. The doctor says they usually see this with people who take too many antidepressants, but none of these people have a history of treatment.”

“And you traced all the cases back to the same casino?”

Stiles nods. “It’s capital-W Weird and since I’m the closest Price to the problem, they want me to take care of it.” He flashes Derek a grin. “Whadaya say? Partner? Road trip?”

Derek looks like he would rather stab himself in the face than commit to a six-hour road trip with Stiles. But he nods, before stepping away from the car. “We can leave tomorrow. I’m driving.”

“Great! Wait.” Stiles turns to watch him as he goes. “What’s wrong with my car?”

“I will not die in the desert because your car breaks down, Stiles.”

“Rude!” Stiles turns back to Roscoe, resting his hand on the hood of the Jeep gently. “Don’t worry, Roscoe. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

* * * * *

The Golden Lights Casino sits at the far end of the strip, a glimmering lure in the face of the other run down or abandoned casinos on that end of the strip. While it doesn’t have the dazzling lights of some of the main attractions like the Bellagio or the MGM Grand, it still has a certain amount of welcoming flair that you would expect from most casinos looking to rob you blind and make you lose track of time. Stiles can already feel his ADHD flaring into overdrive with sensory overload, but he keeps it together as they make their way through the front door.

It helps that Derek is less than pleased with the situation as well—sensitive werewolf hearing.

Booking a double hadn’t been that hard despite how full the floor seems, and after a few days of investigating, he can’t say he’s getting anywhere. A few jinxes here and there, messing with the gamblers, but not badly enough to break the bank and get themselves caught. A couple of Lilu trying to land themselves a whale in a shotgun Vegas wedding. Nothing that makes sense of anything Rose had mentioned. He’s frustrated honestly. And he’s not having a good time.

He would not say the same for Derek. He seems to be having a blast.

Stiles would have thought that Derek was incapable of having a good time anywhere, but given how little he gets out of Beacon Hills, he’s not one to begrudge him that. However, he’s seen Derek smile more in the last three days than he has in the last ten years—since Cora and Peter left town—and it’s a little creepy.

Still, he will not take it away from him.

Derek strides into the kitchenette, whistling—whistling—and Stiles can’t help but stare. “You’re in a good mood.”

Derek shrugs in response, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “I’m having a good time. Isn’t that what Vegas is for?”

“I guess.” Stiles’ brow furrows curiously before shaking it off. Let the sourwolf be happy for a few days. Who could it hurt? “Anyway, I’m coming up empty around the casino, so I’m going to go check in with Murphy, see if she has any additional details from her patients.”

“Cool. I’ll keep looking around here, see if I uncover anything.”

“Great. Go team.” Stiles still can’t help but find Derek’s attitude strange, but he’s willing to let it go if it gets the job done faster. “Mind if I take the car?”

“Not at all, go for it.”

If he’s honest with himself, that should have been his first clue that something was wrong.

* * * * *

Dr. Angela Murphy isn’t really his friend so much as a friend of Alex’s who knows a little more about the world than most. Still, when he makes his appearance, she seems relieved to see him. “Any word on what this is?”

“Not yet,” Stiles shakes his head. “I was hoping you might have some more details.”

Murphy shakes her head before taking his arm and guiding him through the hospital to somewhere more private. “Nothing. All the M.O.’s are frustratingly similar, that it has to be the same thing, but I don’t understand why these people.”

“Maybe that’s what we have to do. We have to go back to the people. Do you have files on all of them?”

Murphy nods. “Yeah. I’ll dig up what I can find.”

A few hours later, Stiles is putting together a pattern. He sorts through the stacks of files, pulling out the pertinent details and frowns. Looking over at the doctor, he frowns. “Did any of them have puncture wounds?”

Angela blinks before nodding. “Yeah, actually.” She lifts her hair with one hand so she can show with the other. “At the base of the skull. None of them could remember how they got it.”

“A lot of these people have just come from life-changing events. They lost a job, broke up with a long-term significant other, a family member died. Depressed, even, but once arriving, they felt better. Even seem happier. Until it becomes too much and they overdose on the good chemical.”

Murphy squints at him. “Do you know what this is?”

“I think it’s a wraith. Usually they flood the brain with dopamine and induce insanity, but maybe they’re a distinct branch of the family tree and they work with serotonin instead. And who wouldn’t be happy on a Vegas vacation? No one would know the…” His voice trails off as a horrible realization comes over him and he gets to his feet. “I gotta go.”

Murphy frowns. “Stiles?”

“This wraith is feeding on the bad chemicals. The things that make you sad. And I’ve left them alone with an isolated, depressed werewolf with no friends, a terrible life, and a working healing factor.”

Murphy blinks again. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I’ve just handed them an endless juice box and I need to go get him back.” And with no time to debate it further, he takes off to book it back to the casino.

Good thing Derek was delirious enough to let him take his car.

* * * * *

Stiles emerges from the hospital to several texts that show Derek might be in more trouble than he expected. He should have figured that when the wraith figured out what they had, they might take drastic measures, but he didn’t anticipate this.

This, being kicking down the door to the Golden Lights Wedding Chapel with a loud and pained: “I object!”

Standing next to Derek at the altar is a very dramatic looking Elvis impersonator, and a tall ginger woman who looks peeved that someone’s interrupted her special day. Derek turns towards the sound of Stiles voice, and a bright smile flashes across his face.

“Stiles! You made it!” A beat. “Wait, did you say object?”

“Yes. Yes, I object. Derek, you do not even know this woman. What do you think you’re doing?”

“When you know you know, right?” Derek is on Cloud Nine, and not in a good way, leaving Stiles scrambling to figure out how to bring him back down. “I just… I know Gina is the one for me.”

“Gina” flashes Stiles a smile, but he can see the daggers from her eyes, daring him to separate her from her all-you-can-eat buffet. “We’re in love, Stiles. Can’t you support us?”

He sees her eyes glow, and he takes a sudden step back. “Oh, no, sweetie. Your hoodoo will not work on me. For one thing, I’m a Price. Brainwashing me will not end so well for you.”

Gina falters, confusion crossing her features. “You’re a descendant of Francis Brown.”

“You betcha.” He’s never been more grateful than he is right now for his family line to be recognized. “And another thing, because I don’t think you guys had the chance to exchange last names: this is Derek Hale. As in the only son of Talia Hale. You picked the wrong werewolf to snack on.”

Gina lets go of Derek’s hands like he burned her, because she did not sign up for this much of a bad day. She holds up her hands and tries to reason with them. “Look, don’t kill me, okay? I’m just trying to survive, and when I noticed he was handling it better than most…”

“You wanted a meal ticket that wouldn’t cause you any trouble. I get it. But this guy ain’t it. And I don’t want to have to kill you either, but you’re attracting attention.” Stiles crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Maybe there’s another juice box out there for you somewhere, but… I can’t let you have this one.”

Gina looks furtively between the two of them for the moment, before nodding her agreement. “Got it. Leave Vegas.” She glances over at Derek. “Are you sure I can’t take him? He seems a lot happier.”

“Yeah, maybe he does.” Stiles notices his blissful smiling, watching the ping-ponging conversation with no understanding of the consequences. “But that doesn’t mean it’s real.” Gina frowns as she accepts that, then nods.

“Yeah, I get it. I just wanted to make people happy instead of making them crazy.”

Stiles gets that too, but he lets her go. Instead, he places a hand on Derek’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “C’mon, big guy. We gotta get you home.”

Derek blinks, confused. “Did we find the monster already?”

“Yeah, you’re in for a rude awakening.” Stiles glances after Gina. “This is gonna wear off, right?”

She nods. “Oh, yeah. He’ll sleep it off, but he’ll be in for a hell of a crash.”

Stiles makes a face before turning and steering Derek towards the front desk so they can check out. “Yeah, this is gonna be a fun ride home.”