He sits in the driver’s seat, taking their commandeered vehicle and clearly unbothered by the actions that got them back into the real world. Derek’s eyes bore into him from the back seat, trying to see a hint of shame or a glimmer of remorse, read into his chemo signals somehow to find that there’s a person underneath the ruthless choices, but he’s not finding anything.
But with all those ruthless choices, he didn’t leave them there to die. He doesn’t know what it means.
Blue eyes flicker to him in the rearview mirror before he sighs. The two humans are asleep opposite each of them, Freya in the front passenger’s seat and Allison in the back with Derek, so he speaks at a level that won’t rouse them, but Derek’s werewolf hearing will still allow him to hear.
“Staring holes into the back of my head will not change the outcome, Derek.” Peter’s voice sounds almost bored, as though Derek’s moralizing is an old hat to him, and not something of concern. “It was the only choice we had.”
“Was it?” He tips his head to the side. “We hadn’t been there that long. Freya might have been able to find another way.”
“You were there for a few hours. I was there much longer, and I’ve seen what happens to those who are there for not just days but years. Decades. Centuries, even. I wasn’t going to become one of them out of misplaced mercy for a child that might not even be a child.”
Derek grits his teeth, turning his attention out the window again. He’s not sure he has an argument for that. Still, all this time of trying to be better, to not succumb to the anger that built him for so long, and he’s letting desperation drag him back in. He can feel Peter watching him, glancing briefly from the rearview mirror to the road.
“I was doing what was best for you. I won’t apologize for that.”
“No, you’ll just make us get our hands dirty with you.”
“No, I won’t. I’m the only one responsible for finding and turning over Landon. That was part of the deal. Each of us has an individual task to obtain, and once we do, our freedom is assured.”
“And you trust them?”
“Of course not. That’s why I aligned myself with one of the most powerful witches on the planet.” He glances over at Freya, and while Derek doesn’t know Peter well, there’s something in his gut that tells him there’s something in the way his gaze falters. That he might actually feel a human emotion regarding the woman next to him.
“So it’s not just because she’s your soulmate?”
Peter glances back at him. “No. It’s strategy.” Peter’s an impressive liar, but Derek picks up the slight falter of his heartbeat. Huh. Interesting. Peter rolls his eyes before continuing. “It’s not as though you’re magically in love with the person once you see them. I’m sure you’ll find out when you have a soulmate of your own. It seems like they’re falling out of trees these days.”
“How do you know I don’t already have one?”
The response is immediately the wrong one. Peter’s eyes widen as he focuses on Derek through the mirror again. Derek does his best to keep his face impassive, and Peter eventually breaks the gaze and turns his eyes back to the road.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t tell me that, would you?” He raises an eyebrow. “Anyone I know?”
Tangentially, maybe. Caroline had Peter’s number on her phone. But he can’t say for sure how well he knows her, so he shakes his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Good.” Peter almost seems relieved. “I was worried for a moment you were going to tell me it was the lovely Ms. Argent.”
Derek is about to come back with a retort for that, when Allison jerks up in the seat next to him, snapped from her slumber. She cries out in pain as her hands go to her head, and Derek almost panics, moving to rest his hand against her back.
“Allison.”
“Stop the car.”
“We’re in the middle of a highway.”
“Stop the car, now.”
Peter rolls his eyes, crossing over lanes until he reaches the shoulder of the road and brings the car to a stop. Freya jerks awake not long after and his face sobers from annoyance to concern. Derek wants to ask her if she’s okay, but before he can, he’s assaulted by a flood of images.
Kids of all ages, wandering through the hallways in matching school uniforms. An iron-wrought gate with an ornate S on the front of it. A “Welcome to Mystic Falls, Virginia” sign. An ornate old knife kept in a glass case in the middle of this bustling school.
When his vision clears and he comes back to himself again, each of his companions equally dazed. Allison straightens, trying to regain control of the moment. “Did anyone else see a warehouse? Just … endless shelves?”
Derek shakes his head. “I saw a school in Mystic Falls.”
“A woman in a coffee shop,” Freya adds.
“I also saw a school, but it wasn’t in Mystic Falls. Still in Virginia though.” Peter glances around at the rest of the car. “Guess we have our assignments.”
“Also, sounds like we’re going to have to split up. My target is on the way back to New Orleans.”
Allison nods. “Mine too. It’s closer to Atlanta.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to split up.” Peter doesn’t seem pleased that he and Freya seem to go in opposite directions, but from what Derek can tell, he’s not dwelling on it for long. “Shall we steal another car?”
“We don’t have to.” Allison shifts before pulling out her FBI badge. “We may have disappeared from memory, but that doesn’t include electronic records. I should be able to get a car from the nearest office.”
“Even better,” Freya smiles. “Drop us off at the Charlotte office, and we’ll make our way from there.”
“Are you sure?” Derek asks, turning his focus on Allison. He’s not sure he’s okay with losing the back up.
“I should ask you that,” Allison sighs. “You’re the one stuck with Peter.”
“I’ll figure it out,” Derek nods. “If nothing else, I can use Malia for backup.”
Peter straightens, tense. Malia strikes a nerve. “You forget, dear nephew, that Malia has forgotten us both.”
“Sure she has. But unlike you, the three of us sent videos to the people important to us, reminding them we exist.” She tips her head to the side. “I’m assuming that Derek sent one to Malia?”
“And Cora,” Derek nods. “And I pointed Cora, specifically, at Stiles. So between the two of them.”
Peter purses his lips. “Great. A family reunion.” He shifts the car back into gear before turning to pull back out onto the highway. “Let’s get this disaster on the road.”
* * * * *
An hour later, Freya and Allison pile into their own sedan, and Derek moves to the front seat. As he closes the door, he fights the urge to give Peter more information than he has to. But he doesn’t think he can avoid this conversation.
“Let’s go to Mystic Falls first.”
“Why? You’re that desperate to avoid the hard part of this adventure?”
“No. But I think there’s significantly more backup there.” He glances down at his phone, his thumb hovering over Caroline’s contact. He’s been avoiding on and off calling her, asking her if she got the video, but he keeps chickening out.
Maybe her life is better if he stays out of it, given how much trouble he gets into.
“Fine,” Peter sighs. “We’ll go see your cousin. Hopefully, she doesn’t tear our faces off.”
It’s the last word that’s said between them for the rest of the drive, aside from needing to pull over to use the facilities or get something to eat. Derek isn’t sure what it is, but he’s starving, like the time they spent in Malivore not sleeping or eating is catching up to him, and his body wants compensation. He can’t trust himself to sleep, however, and he forces himself to stay awake, not sure he wants to wake up to a world where Peter’s diverted their plan.
Eventually, they pull to a stop in front of the wrought-iron gate of the Salvatore School. Something about that name pings in the back of his brain, and he swallows. This is important to him. He just can’t remember why.
“Stay here,” he tells Peter. “I’ll be right back.”
Nodding, Peter leans back in the driver’s seat. “Sure you don’t want help?”
“It’s one knife.” Derek comments as he climbs out of the car. “How hard could it be?”
He makes his way to the gate, and eyes the wards on the front. The itch of magic catches in his nose and he fights the urge to sneeze. Instead, he takes a deep breath, letting the signature of it flood his senses as his eyes glow blue. He follows the edge of the magic around the barrier, skirting over the edge and finding the part of the perimeter where he might find quieter access.
The path leads him around the trees into the quiet woods of Mystic Falls. It reminds him of Beacon Hills in a lot of ways, the calm of the Preserve. In some ways, it’s comforting. His feet pad against the ground until the barrier of magic lessens enough that he can avoid triggering the wards. Pausing on the other side of the line and certain that nothing is going to happen, he continues inching forward until he reaches the back door. The kitchen, probably. He can hear a student rustling around for a midnight snack.
He ducks down, waiting for the footsteps to fade, then quietly eases the kitchen door open. He follows the hallways through the map painted in his mind, searching for the target he saw in his mind. Eventually, the hallways open to a wide, library-like room. He scans the books and artifacts until he sees the knife in question. Making his way across the room, he rests his hand gently on the glass, staring down at it.
He gets this, and he gives Malivore what he wants. He doesn’t, and he might not know a moment’s peace ever again. The internal tug of war over what to do next has him so conflicted that he doesn’t hear the footsteps until it’s too late. A hand forms a tight grip over the back of his neck, and he’s hit with the blast of a familiar scent, floral and heady but also featuring an undercurrent of death and blood. A scent he would know anywhere that he committed to memory as soon as he knew it was important.
“I don’t know why you’re here, but you broke into the wrong school, buddy.”
“Caroline—”
Before he can get further than that, the room blurs. Seconds later, he’s down on his back, wind knocked out of him, and a curtain of blond hair is leaning over him. The second she sees his face, really takes him in, she stumbles backwards, almost as though she’s been burned.
“Oh, my god. It’s you.”
He exhales slowly as he props himself up on his elbows, looking back at her. “So. Guess you got my video. Hi, Caroline.”
R ~ derek/caroline ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 1,920
Peter is so relaxed.
He sits in the driver’s seat, taking their commandeered vehicle and clearly unbothered by the actions that got them back into the real world. Derek’s eyes bore into him from the back seat, trying to see a hint of shame or a glimmer of remorse, read into his chemo signals somehow to find that there’s a person underneath the ruthless choices, but he’s not finding anything.
But with all those ruthless choices, he didn’t leave them there to die. He doesn’t know what it means.
Blue eyes flicker to him in the rearview mirror before he sighs. The two humans are asleep opposite each of them, Freya in the front passenger’s seat and Allison in the back with Derek, so he speaks at a level that won’t rouse them, but Derek’s werewolf hearing will still allow him to hear.
“Staring holes into the back of my head will not change the outcome, Derek.” Peter’s voice sounds almost bored, as though Derek’s moralizing is an old hat to him, and not something of concern. “It was the only choice we had.”
“Was it?” He tips his head to the side. “We hadn’t been there that long. Freya might have been able to find another way.”
“You were there for a few hours. I was there much longer, and I’ve seen what happens to those who are there for not just days but years. Decades. Centuries, even. I wasn’t going to become one of them out of misplaced mercy for a child that might not even be a child.”
Derek grits his teeth, turning his attention out the window again. He’s not sure he has an argument for that. Still, all this time of trying to be better, to not succumb to the anger that built him for so long, and he’s letting desperation drag him back in. He can feel Peter watching him, glancing briefly from the rearview mirror to the road.
“I was doing what was best for you. I won’t apologize for that.”
“No, you’ll just make us get our hands dirty with you.”
“No, I won’t. I’m the only one responsible for finding and turning over Landon. That was part of the deal. Each of us has an individual task to obtain, and once we do, our freedom is assured.”
“And you trust them?”
“Of course not. That’s why I aligned myself with one of the most powerful witches on the planet.” He glances over at Freya, and while Derek doesn’t know Peter well, there’s something in his gut that tells him there’s something in the way his gaze falters. That he might actually feel a human emotion regarding the woman next to him.
“So it’s not just because she’s your soulmate?”
Peter glances back at him. “No. It’s strategy.” Peter’s an impressive liar, but Derek picks up the slight falter of his heartbeat. Huh. Interesting. Peter rolls his eyes before continuing. “It’s not as though you’re magically in love with the person once you see them. I’m sure you’ll find out when you have a soulmate of your own. It seems like they’re falling out of trees these days.”
“How do you know I don’t already have one?”
The response is immediately the wrong one. Peter’s eyes widen as he focuses on Derek through the mirror again. Derek does his best to keep his face impassive, and Peter eventually breaks the gaze and turns his eyes back to the road.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t tell me that, would you?” He raises an eyebrow. “Anyone I know?”
Tangentially, maybe. Caroline had Peter’s number on her phone. But he can’t say for sure how well he knows her, so he shakes his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Good.” Peter almost seems relieved. “I was worried for a moment you were going to tell me it was the lovely Ms. Argent.”
Derek is about to come back with a retort for that, when Allison jerks up in the seat next to him, snapped from her slumber. She cries out in pain as her hands go to her head, and Derek almost panics, moving to rest his hand against her back.
“Allison.”
“Stop the car.”
“We’re in the middle of a highway.”
“Stop the car, now.”
Peter rolls his eyes, crossing over lanes until he reaches the shoulder of the road and brings the car to a stop. Freya jerks awake not long after and his face sobers from annoyance to concern. Derek wants to ask her if she’s okay, but before he can, he’s assaulted by a flood of images.
Kids of all ages, wandering through the hallways in matching school uniforms. An iron-wrought gate with an ornate S on the front of it. A “Welcome to Mystic Falls, Virginia” sign. An ornate old knife kept in a glass case in the middle of this bustling school.
When his vision clears and he comes back to himself again, each of his companions equally dazed. Allison straightens, trying to regain control of the moment. “Did anyone else see a warehouse? Just … endless shelves?”
Derek shakes his head. “I saw a school in Mystic Falls.”
“A woman in a coffee shop,” Freya adds.
“I also saw a school, but it wasn’t in Mystic Falls. Still in Virginia though.” Peter glances around at the rest of the car. “Guess we have our assignments.”
“Also, sounds like we’re going to have to split up. My target is on the way back to New Orleans.”
Allison nods. “Mine too. It’s closer to Atlanta.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to split up.” Peter doesn’t seem pleased that he and Freya seem to go in opposite directions, but from what Derek can tell, he’s not dwelling on it for long. “Shall we steal another car?”
“We don’t have to.” Allison shifts before pulling out her FBI badge. “We may have disappeared from memory, but that doesn’t include electronic records. I should be able to get a car from the nearest office.”
“Even better,” Freya smiles. “Drop us off at the Charlotte office, and we’ll make our way from there.”
“Are you sure?” Derek asks, turning his focus on Allison. He’s not sure he’s okay with losing the back up.
“I should ask you that,” Allison sighs. “You’re the one stuck with Peter.”
“I’ll figure it out,” Derek nods. “If nothing else, I can use Malia for backup.”
Peter straightens, tense. Malia strikes a nerve. “You forget, dear nephew, that Malia has forgotten us both.”
“Sure she has. But unlike you, the three of us sent videos to the people important to us, reminding them we exist.” She tips her head to the side. “I’m assuming that Derek sent one to Malia?”
“And Cora,” Derek nods. “And I pointed Cora, specifically, at Stiles. So between the two of them.”
Peter purses his lips. “Great. A family reunion.” He shifts the car back into gear before turning to pull back out onto the highway. “Let’s get this disaster on the road.”
An hour later, Freya and Allison pile into their own sedan, and Derek moves to the front seat. As he closes the door, he fights the urge to give Peter more information than he has to. But he doesn’t think he can avoid this conversation.
“Let’s go to Mystic Falls first.”
“Why? You’re that desperate to avoid the hard part of this adventure?”
“No. But I think there’s significantly more backup there.” He glances down at his phone, his thumb hovering over Caroline’s contact. He’s been avoiding on and off calling her, asking her if she got the video, but he keeps chickening out.
Maybe her life is better if he stays out of it, given how much trouble he gets into.
“Fine,” Peter sighs. “We’ll go see your cousin. Hopefully, she doesn’t tear our faces off.”
It’s the last word that’s said between them for the rest of the drive, aside from needing to pull over to use the facilities or get something to eat. Derek isn’t sure what it is, but he’s starving, like the time they spent in Malivore not sleeping or eating is catching up to him, and his body wants compensation. He can’t trust himself to sleep, however, and he forces himself to stay awake, not sure he wants to wake up to a world where Peter’s diverted their plan.
Eventually, they pull to a stop in front of the wrought-iron gate of the Salvatore School. Something about that name pings in the back of his brain, and he swallows. This is important to him. He just can’t remember why.
“Stay here,” he tells Peter. “I’ll be right back.”
Nodding, Peter leans back in the driver’s seat. “Sure you don’t want help?”
“It’s one knife.” Derek comments as he climbs out of the car. “How hard could it be?”
He makes his way to the gate, and eyes the wards on the front. The itch of magic catches in his nose and he fights the urge to sneeze. Instead, he takes a deep breath, letting the signature of it flood his senses as his eyes glow blue. He follows the edge of the magic around the barrier, skirting over the edge and finding the part of the perimeter where he might find quieter access.
The path leads him around the trees into the quiet woods of Mystic Falls. It reminds him of Beacon Hills in a lot of ways, the calm of the Preserve. In some ways, it’s comforting. His feet pad against the ground until the barrier of magic lessens enough that he can avoid triggering the wards. Pausing on the other side of the line and certain that nothing is going to happen, he continues inching forward until he reaches the back door. The kitchen, probably. He can hear a student rustling around for a midnight snack.
He ducks down, waiting for the footsteps to fade, then quietly eases the kitchen door open. He follows the hallways through the map painted in his mind, searching for the target he saw in his mind. Eventually, the hallways open to a wide, library-like room. He scans the books and artifacts until he sees the knife in question. Making his way across the room, he rests his hand gently on the glass, staring down at it.
He gets this, and he gives Malivore what he wants. He doesn’t, and he might not know a moment’s peace ever again. The internal tug of war over what to do next has him so conflicted that he doesn’t hear the footsteps until it’s too late. A hand forms a tight grip over the back of his neck, and he’s hit with the blast of a familiar scent, floral and heady but also featuring an undercurrent of death and blood. A scent he would know anywhere that he committed to memory as soon as he knew it was important.
“I don’t know why you’re here, but you broke into the wrong school, buddy.”
“Caroline—”
Before he can get further than that, the room blurs. Seconds later, he’s down on his back, wind knocked out of him, and a curtain of blond hair is leaning over him. The second she sees his face, really takes him in, she stumbles backwards, almost as though she’s been burned.
“Oh, my god. It’s you.”
He exhales slowly as he props himself up on his elbows, looking back at her. “So. Guess you got my video. Hi, Caroline.”
“Hi, Derek.”