prompts { 2021 } alphabetasoup

[iluvroadrunner6]

I have an itch and don't want to just write flash fiction. IDK if I'm going to use this prompt table for all the same people, but I'm going to start with some Teen Wolf and Leverage because that's where my brain is I lied, this is turning into a Teen Wolf/TVDverse Soulmate AU collection, I'm just indulging my bliss here.

A is for	Amused.	B is for	Bitter.	C is for	Curious.	D is for	Disappointed.	E is for	Ecstatic.
F is for	Frustrated.	G is for	Grateful.	H is for	Hurt.	I is for	Irritated.	J is for	Jealous.
K is for	Kind.	L is for	Lethargic.	M is for	Mischievous.	N is for	Nostalgic.	O is for	Optimistic.
P is for	Pensive.	Q is for	Quixotic.	R is for	Relaxed.	S is for	Surprised.	T is for	Touched.
U is for	Uncomfortable.	V is for	Vexed.	W is for	Worried.	X is for	Xenophilic.	Y is for	Yielding.
Z is for	Zealous.

A is for	amuck.	B is for	bric-a-brac.	C is for	crow.	D is for	diatribe.	E is for	esoteric.
F is for	flavor.	G is for	gravity.	H is for	horology.	I is for	ineluctable.	J is for	jubilee.
K is for	Kaboom!	L is for	leonine.	M is for	Mars.	N is for	nautical.	O is for	opiate.
P is for	point-blank.	Q is for	quandary.	R is for	ramshackle.	S is for	spartan.	T is for	thief.
U is for	ugly.	V is for	vex.	W is for	whilom.	X is for	Xanadu.	Y is for	yin.
Z is for	zombie.

A is for	Allurement.	B is for	Baroque.	C is for	Casuistry.	D is for	Dragon.	E is for	Envenom.
F is for	Fugacious.	G is for	Gnome.	H is for	Hauteur.	I is for	Improvisation.	J is for	Jeremiad.
K is for	Knot.	L is for	Luddite.	M is for	Macabre.	N is for	Narcotic.	O is for	Oxymoron.
P is for	Perversion.	Q is for	Quirk.	R is for	Reprobate.	S is for	Scintillating.	T is for	Torrid.
U is for	Umbrage.	V is for	Vehement.	W is for	Writhe.	X is for	Xerox.	Y is for	Yearning.
Z is for	Zingy.

A is for	Ares.	B is for	Baal.	C is for	Charybdis.	D is for	Dionysus.	E is for	Egeria.
F is for	Fenrir.	G is for	Gaea.	H is for	Hades.	I is for	Isis.	J is for	Juno.
K is for	Kali.	L is for	Lakshmi.	M is for	Maui.	N is for	Nyx.	O is for	Olokun.
P is for	Pangu.	Q is for	Quatzalcoatl.	R is for	Ravana.	S is for	Sedna.	T is for	Thanatos.
U is for	Ulysses.	V is for	Valhalla.	W is for	Wyvern.	X is for	Xanadu.	Y is for	Yggdrasil.
Z is for	Ziggurat.

Chronological Order:

Part 1

surprised (scott/lydia pt. 1)

hurt (scott/lydia pt. 2)

worried (hayley/klaus pt. 1)

frustrated (freya/peter pt. 1)

vexed (scott/lydia, pt. 3)

disappointed (stiles/allison, pt. 1)

curious (stiles/allison, pt. 2)

xenophilic (derek/caroline pt. 1)

optimistic (derek/caroline pt. 2)

irritated (peter/freya pt. 2)

jealous (derek/caroline pt. 3)

grateful (tyler/elena pt. 1)

uncomfortable (chris/melissa pt. 1)

pensive (stiles/allison pt. 3)

zealous (stiles/allison pt. 4)

touched (derek/caroline pt. 4)

bitter (klaus/hayley pt. 2)

mischevious (cora/isaac pt. 1)

lethargic (freya/peter pt. 3)

yielding (freya/peter pt. 4)

quixotic (stiles/allison pt. 5)

nostalgic (cora/isaac pt. 2)

relaxed (derek/caroline pt. 5)

amused (derek/caroline pt. 6)

ecstatic (cora/isaac pt. 3)

kind (peter/freya pt. 5)

Part 2:

ineluctable (tyler/elena pt. 2)

quandry (tyler/elena pt. 3)

point-blank (jeremy/malia pt. 1)

esoteric (bonnie/matt pt. 1)

spartan (bonnie/matt pt. 2)

thief (allison/stiles pt. 6)

flavor (freya/peter pt. 6)

vex (cami/marcel pt. 1)

diatribe (rebekah/stefan pt. 1)

ramshackle (allison/stiles pt. 7)

yin (bonnie/matt pt. 3)

whilom (davina/kol pt. 1)

gravity (allison/stiles pt. 8)

bric-a-brac (hayley/klaus pt. 3)

zombie (cami/marcel pt. 2)

ugly (hayley/klaus pt. 4)

horology (freya/peter pt. 7)

Xanadu (tyler/elena pt. 4)

amuck (bonnie/matt pt. 3)

crow (jeremy/malia pt. 2)

Completed: 46/104
Word Count: 84,022

Comments

A ~ derek/caroline ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 2,039

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous]

Caroline puts her desk between the two of them, sitting in her office as she tries to process the last hour. Part of her is grateful that most of the students were asleep, so they didn’t see her panicking in the soulmate's face she doesn’t remember. But as the panic subsides, and she bridges the gap from confusion to acceptance, she can’t help but notice that he seems amused by all of this.

“What’s so funny?”

He blinks as his eyes turn to face her again. “What? Nothing. Just … I kind of feel like I’ve been called to the principal’s office.”

He’s not wrong, technically speaking. She arches an eyebrow before crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Spend a lot of time in the principal’s office as a kid?”

“Not really,” he shakes his head, leaning back to match her relaxed stance. “But it’s kind of nice, seeing you in your natural habitat.”

That perks her interest, curiosity inching forward in the place of concern, though she does her best to push it back. “You haven’t before?”

Derek shrugs, the amusement flickering for something a little more awkward. “We only really knew each other for a couple days before I…”

“Fell into a pit that erased you from my memory.”

“It was not intentional, by the way.” Derek sighs. “Nor was it ideal. I have a few powerful reasons to not want to be forgotten.”

“I can imagine,” Caroline nods. “I met your sister.”

He straightens even further at that, eyes wide. “You saw Cora? Is she okay?”

Caroline shakes her head. “From what it sounds like, she found out that she forgot half her family ever existed, so I don’t think that qualifies as okay. And I’m pretty sure she wants to punch you in the face.”

He snorts. “That’s actually standard operating procedure for Cora.”

“Ah.” Caroline nods, rubbing one arm gently. “We only knew each other for a couple days and you thought me that important? That you would leave me a video?”

Derek pauses, eyes falling to the ground as he considers. “You asked me to.”

She asked him to. That sounds like her, but she doesn’t know what to make of this, when he seems to have more information about their relationship than she does. It’s an emotional knot that she cannot untangle soon, so she swallows and straightens again.

“So how did you wind up here, breaking into my school?”

Time to get to the important part of the story. The information that she can act on, rather than things, she is truly too sober to figure out. At that Derek’s face falls, and he almost looks ashamed? Uncomfortable? She’s trying not to read too much into it before he speaks for himself, but it’s a red flag if she ever saw one.

“My uncle made a deal with the creature in order to get our freedom. Me, him, Freya Mikaelson and Allison Argent.” The names make sense—Hope’s missing aunt and Stiles’ mysterious soulmate that Isaac had ties to include. “He would let us out for these items that would help return his mobility, I guess.”

“Mobility?” She blinks, confused. “A tar pit has mobility?”

“It did, a long time ago. It’s called Malivore.”

He then tells her a story about a witch, a vampire and a werewolf who came together to create a mud construct that would consume dangerous supernatural creatures and erase them from memory—that is, until it became too dangerous, and they needed to cut its legs out from under it. It falls in line with most supernatural myths that she’s encountered, but it still takes her by surprise a bit, and she doesn’t know what to make of it.

“So you need the knife—what else?”

He falls silent for a moment, unsure, and there’s that odd sense of shame again. Caroline reaches forward, resting her hand on his and he startles, surprised by the touch and those green eyes meet hers. “Look, Derek, I have a feeling it’s probably bad, and I’m not about to judge you for trying to escape a tar pit of doom, but if all of this is anything to go by, I don’t think we want it to get its legs back.”

Derek looks grim, but he nods. “I don’t know what Allison or Freya were sent after, but Peter…one item is a kid.”

“What?” Caroline tries to fight the urge to jerk back. “What do you mean, a kid?”

“A vessel. I don’t know what the connection is to Malivore, but they were very specific. He’s going to just … wear him like a meat suit, I guess.” Caroline is clearly horrified, and he reaches up to take her arm gently. “Peter made the deal without us. He went behind our back to get us out, and while I’m pissed as hell that he did…”

Derek is out. He’s here. No one may remember him, but he can move about the world and isn’t stuck in Hell. Caroline isn’t sure she can blame him for that. At the same time: “We can’t let Peter find this poor kid.”

“I know. But given that, I haven’t come out when I was supposed to—”

“He might have abandoned you to the wolves and gone on his own?” A beat. “Pun unintended.”

He smirks before nodding.

“Okay.” Caroline pinches the bridge of her nose. “Okay, then let’s…put you in a room here, and we’ll figure out the rest in the morning. I’ll go check and see if Peter is still here.”

“Caroline, you don’t have to—”

“Oh, I’m not letting you out of my sight.” She points at him with a finger, a firm expression on her face. “The last time I did, I forgot you existed. Besides, I should call Stiles and tell him you’re here, anyway.”

Derek nods and let her move from around the desk to the door to lead him to one of the empty rooms. Before she can go too far, his hand reaches out, catching the side of her waist and pulling her closer. Her body responds as though it remembers something she doesn’t—her heartbeat picks up, her breath catches, and she wishes she understood why this feels so familiar.

“I really didn’t mean to get lost.”

She swallows, then looks up at him with a small smile. “I really wish you hadn’t.”

* * * * *

“So is he cute?”

Caroline looks up at Bonnie with an incredulous look on her face. Calling for an early morning breakfast is part of the BFF package in Mystic Falls, and while Caroline is fixing her coffee, Bonnie seems to have got to the heart of the matter. It’s one of the rare instances that her friend has been in Mystic Falls and she’s taking advantage.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You finally have a soulmate and you don’t expect me to ask the important questions?” Bonnie raises an eyebrow curiously. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Caroline sighs, before running her hand through her hair. “He is very cute.”

Bonnie grins, pleased. “Good. You deserve a cute soulmate. And he’s nice?”

“As far as I can tell, but technically I’ve known him all of five minutes and he’s already tied into a messy supernatural plot. And he’s also way further along on the into me road than I am into him, so that just makes things awkward.”

“At least until we figure out what kind of memory magic is holding it hostage.” Bonnie tips her head to the side. “Maybe after I meet your mystery man, I might figure it out.”

“Hayley said she was recruiting Davina to help. I’m sure she wouldn’t say no to the extra hands.”

“Sounds like an impromptu trip to San Francisco, it is. I’m sure Matt will love it.” Bonnie’s face gets a bit more serious, reaching over to take Caroline’s hands. “Don’t panic, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, Derek is not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about Peter Hale.” Because Derek was right, and Peter was gone by the time the two of them got there. He seems determined to maintain his freedom regardless of who gets hurt, even if it’s a little kid. “Do you think Matt might use his old police contacts to find the kid they’re looking for? His name is Landon Kirby.”

Bonnie scribbles the name down on a napkin and nods. “I’ll look into it. But given that you have the FBI on your side, it might be good to loop in Stiles too.”

“I will,” Caroline nods, before taking a big gulp to finish her coffee. “I just hope we can find him before Peter does. We don’t really know how much information he had to go on.”

“I’m on it.” Bonnie looks over at her again. “And I’ll see what I can find about this Derek Hale guy, too. You said that computer records weren’t affected, so maybe there’s something that’ll put your mind at ease.”

“You’re the best.”

“And Care?” Bonnie gives her a firm look. “If he is actually a good guy? I say you sit back and enjoy it. It’s about time you got a good guy for a change.”

Caroline smiles at her in return before nodding. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

* * * * *

When she returns to the Salvatore School and the room that she left Derek in, she blinks in surprise to find it empty. Glancing around the room, she tries to find any sign of him, and she can feel her heart sinking. In a panic, she zooms down to the library, but the knife is still neatly tucked away in its box, so she lets out one sigh of relief. But that still doesn’t explain where Derek went.

She’s about to go try to find Josie and Lizzie, for locator spell purposes, when one wolf stops her in the doorway.

“Ms. Forbes? There’s someone still down in the werewolf cages. Are we supposed to be having visitors?”

She thanks him for the information and promises that she’ll take care of it before disappearing down into the basement of the Salvatore School. Soon she picks up a steady but somewhat familiar heartbeat, and follows it down the hall to one cage where Derek stretches out on the cot, seeming to have locked himself in.

“Derek?”

His head picks up at the sound of her voice, and he looks apologetic. “Hi. Sorry.”

“What are you doing down here?”

“I tried to get some sleep,” he admits, pushing himself up and making his way to the cage door. “But I woke up about halfway through and found myself in the middle of the classrooms, heading for the library. I decided I was safer in a place I couldn’t easily get out of.”

“So you locked yourself down here?” She looks up at him earnestly. “I get it.”

“It’s okay. It’s probably better I’m in here.” He gives her a sheepish look. “At least now you know where to find me.”

“I have a friend who’s a witch. She might see if she can break the compulsion.”

“Maybe.” Derek shrugs. “I’m not what you need to worry about. You need to worry about stopping Peter.”

“Yeah, we’re on that too. We’re trying to find Landon, so between my local resources and Stiles, we’ll find him.”

“Okay.”

Caroline hesitates, before reaching her hand through the bar to rest over his. “This isn’t how I was planning to get to know you better.”

He laughs. “Maybe not, but it’s not the worst date I’ve ever had.”

“A date?” She raises an eyebrow. “Oh, this is not a date. Not even close. There will be dinner, and there will be other date-like activities.” She takes another step closer. “And we’re not having a date until I remember everything you remember. No matter what that takes.”

Derek meets her eyes and nods, smoothing his thumb over her fingers. “Okay. Sounds good to me.”

“Good.” Caroline takes a step back. She just hopes that she actually can remember what came before. For all of their sakes.

[Next]

B ~ klaus/hayley ~ tvdverse/teen wolf ~ 1,685

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

Warm sunlight drifts down from the sky as Klaus and Hayley sit on the back porch of their second home in the bayou. Hope is chasing butterflies through the tall grass, giggling to herself as she catches and releases them, or slides on a patch of mud. Everything about this moment feels far too perfect, everything he could want right now, which is how he knows it isn’t real.

Klaus never gets what he wants. He has committed too many egregious sins for that. But somewhere out there, he has to believe that Hope and Hayley are safe, even if he doesn’t know where they are.

He tips his head to rest against Hayley’s, running his fingers down her arm and taking in the feel of her, before he wakes up to find her gone.

“I’m going to be awake soon. I don’t know how much longer they’ll keep playing these games.”

“I’ll find you first,” she states, determined, and he doesn’t know how to manage her expectations. He knows that once Hayley puts her mind to something, she won’t rest until it’s done. But he has lived a thousand years, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to bear it if she’s erased from his memory.

Or Hope’s.

“This place is dangerous, little wolf,” he murmurs, turning to face her. “I don’t want you to risk yourself just for me. You need to keep Hope safe.”

“She is.” Hayley pushes up on her knees. “She’s the last place anyone would look for her.”

He nods as he leans in to kiss her, brushing his thumb against her chin. They have little time left. He just hopes it will be enough.

“In case I don’t get to say it, or if you don’t remember later—I love you, Hayley. I always will.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but before she can, it all fades to black.

* * * * *

Klaus jerks awake, shrouded in darkness, drying blood clinging to his skin and clothes.

The torture is only going to get more and more pronounced, knowing that they can’t kill him. They threaten him by throwing him into their memory pit, a dark tar-filled hole they claim will rid the world of the idea that Klaus Mikaelson ever existed. Klaus would like to believe it’s impossible, that he’s too intrinsically tied to the magical fabric of the world to be allowed to disappear, but he can’t say for sure.

He knows there used to be a man in the cell across from him. He knows, because he remembers feeling panicked, desperate, not wanting something to happen until the moment all of that panic went away. He also knows because they told him, and the worry has wormed his way into his brain, paranoia and bitterness about them somehow being able to contain him with well-timed snaps of his neck and slow starvation.

As he tips his head back into the darkness, biding his time, trying to determine the best plan of attack when they come for the next round of torture, he feels a small bubble of a magic burst in his pocket. Reaching down slowly, he draws out the crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. Scribbled on it is a message in his sister’s handwriting.

We know where you are. Hayley and I are coming.

Part of him seizes with panic, not wanting the more vulnerable members of his family to be coming to his rescue, but part of him is still glad that they are coming at all. It shouldn’t surprise him that Hayley insisted on coming herself.

After all, if it were her, he would have burned this building to the ground without concern or remorse.

As far as he’s concerned, these hunters don’t know what’s coming for them, and he’s going to relish watching them fall.

* * * * *

Hours later, the guards return and pull him out of his cell, forcing him to his feet. He’s been without blood long enough at this point that he’s pliable enough to go easily, forced to his feet and dragged through the hallways of Triad Industries.

“Where are you taking me?” he gasps, unable to get his eyes to focus. “More torture?”

“There are FBI agents here.” One hunter replies. “They’re asking about what we’re doing here. So we need to get you out of the way.”

Klaus doesn’t fight back, letting them continue to drag him further and further away from his cell, but they don’t stop at any of the usual rooms they have been using to torture him. Instead, they head straight to a door marked with an ominous collection of triangles. Then he struggles.

“No. No, you can’t do this.”

“Oh, we absolutely can.”

The door slams open and Klaus recovers some of his nerve, shifting to channel some of his waning power into remaining present. He throws his arms and, as a result, throws the guard holding his left side, sending him flying towards the door. It isn’t enough, as there’s still a second man who grips hold of him, intending to drag him towards the pit and into the murky depths within.

The tar bubbles beneath them, hungry, craving what Klaus offers, all his connections and impact to erase. While there would certainly be some who would be better off having forgotten him, he still has so much to live for. He isn’t ready to go yet.

His foot slides over the edge and he loses his grip, but before he can fall, a gunshot sounds, and the person he’s fighting with crumples to the ground. On the other side of the gun is a dark-haired woman he doesn’t recognize, and she doesn’t look like she’s sure she did the right thing.

“Who are you?”

“Allison Argent.” He’s familiar with the name, though he never expected her to be his rescuer. “We’re here to recover you.”

Then, stepping behind her, appears Hayley and Freya, and both of them look far more relieved than they should be. Klaus stumbles forward, moving past the hunter and throwing himself into his soulmate’s arms, pulling her in closer.

“Told you I was coming,” she murmurs softly in his ear, before pulling back to look at him. “But we don’t have a lot of time. The rest of Triad’s security is—”

Before she can finish the sentence, a body flies past their heads. A large body, a werewolf by the look at him, who digs his claws into the platform so that he doesn’t slide into the tar. “Derek!” the huntress calls after him, and Klaus doesn’t have long to apply that to the Rolodex of names he should probably know. Another young man, scrawny but capable with a gun, skids to a stop next to him.

“We gotta go. They’re flooding security from all angles.”

As though on cue, men in kevlar vests flood the room. Hayley reaches up to break the chains around his wrist with ease, before turning back to him with a frown. “Ready?”

“Definitely,” Klaus nods with a wide grin. “I’m famished.”

* * * * *

Soon, the bodies are all that remains around them, and Klaus drinks his fill on all that’s left behind, trying to regain some of the strength stolen from him. Hayley stands guard, while her pet FBI agent is going through the bodies, gathering names for his own investigation at a later point.

“Why are you doing that, Agent?”

“Stilinski,” he fills in the gap, before glancing over his shoulder. “Wherever Triad came from, there has to be some kind of paper trail. I’m going to figure out where it leads.”

“Mmm.” Klaus shakes his head as he wipes at the corners of his mouth. “And what do you think it will gain you?”

“Not sure. But I sure would like to know how they got a hold of a tar pit that could erase people’s memories.” Stiles glances back at the edge, where Freya is standing, peering into the darkness. “What did they call it again?”

“Malivore,” she replies, tipping her head to the side as she studies the muck. “Is it just me, or did we arrive with more people than we’re leaving with?”

Stilinski blinks at her in surprise. “You think someone got thrown in there?”

“Maybe. Won’t be able to tell for sure until we consult with Hope.”

Klaus straightens immediately, eyes narrowing in concern. “What about my daughter?”

“Hope remembers the people we forgot,” Hayley explains. “We’re not sure how or why but—”

“The hunters were looking for her,” Klaus fills in. “They know that she’s important to this somehow.”

“All I know is that we won’t be able to get answers from here.” Freya turns to face them, jaw set with determination. “I’m going in after them. And after Peter.”

“What?” Hayley shakes her head as she takes a step closer.

“Absolutely not,” Klaus agrees, taking a step towards her as well, but Freya holds up her hand to keep them back.

“We need to go deeper. We need more information.”

“If you do this, we’ll forget you,” Stilinski points out. “Isn’t that a bad thing?”

“I set up a video. You’ll get a reminder. And Hope won’t let you leave me to rot.”

“Sister,” Klaus pleads with her, not wanting to lose another member of his family, even if he won’t remember. “There has to be another way.”

Freya smiles, before spreading her arms and tipping herself back. “Don’t worry. I’ll come back to you. And then I’ll make you remember.”

Klaus goes to charge after her, but he’s still not recovered enough to be fast enough. As Freya sinks into the car, the blackness covering her; he forgets.

And a few minutes later, he can’t remember why he was standing there, waiting at all. “Let’s not linger, shall we?” Klaus asks, even if there’s the nagging sensation that he’s missing something.

“Yeah,” Hayley agrees. “Let’s get out of here.”

Stilinksi leads the way back to their car, and Klaus doesn’t look back.

[Next.]

C ~ stiles/allison ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 2,292

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

“So.” Allison returns to the meeting room, still wary of the witch in the room. She knows that the whole Stiles situation still hangs awkwardly between them, but she’s doing her best to focus on the work. And she has to admit, she’s more than a little curious about what this work is. “Tell me about this Peter guy.”

“Based on the spell I performed, he should have a rather demonstrative role in each of your lives.” Freya turns to face Scott and Lydia specifically. “You shared a connection to him, whether that be power or blood.”

“That means he could be a relative of one of you or what? Part of Scott’s pack?”

Freya shakes her head. “It would be deeper than that. Likely someone Scott turned.”

Allison’s brow furrows along with the other two. That doesn’t seem right. Scott’s very judicious about who he bites has been ever since he became an alpha. That he has a beta that he can’t remember makes little sense.

“That doesn’t explain his connection to Lydia, either. Or Derek. Or you.” Allison takes a deep breath as she considers. “There can’t just be no trace of this person. There have to be records somewhere. Do we have a last name?”

Freya shakes her head. “All I wrote before I passed out was ‘Peter.’ If he had a last name, we don’t know it.”

“Okay.” Allison rubs the back of her neck. “Let me go to the Sheriff’s station. They have residency records. If this guy was from Beacon Hills, maybe we can find him that way.”

“I’ll go with you,” Lydia offers. “I have a car. And Freya should too—maybe if she looks at the names, it might jog her memory as to why she’s supposed to know them.”

“I have to work,” Scott sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Just keep me posted? The second you know something—”

“We’ll let you know,” Allison nods with a smile. As the three women file out, Scott catches Allison’s wrist before she can go too far.

“Hey, Ally?”

Lydia pauses at the door, almost asking if Allison wants her to wait, and the other woman waves it off. She waits until their footsteps fade from the room before turning back to Scott again.

“What’s up?”

“I know this probably should be a larger conversation that we don’t have time for right now, but I just wanted to say—whatever’s happening with you and Stiles? I’m happy for you.”

She glances up at him with a small smile and a nod before giving his hand a squeeze. “Thanks. I’m happy for you and Lydia too.”

Scott smiles before letting her go with a brush of his thumb against the inside of her wrist. “Make sure she knows that? Because I can kind of tell she’s freaking out about it.”

“Oh, you mean the fleeing across the country and not telling you the truth for almost ten years didn’t give it away?” Allison counters with a smirk. “I’ll tell her. Keep us posted if you hear anything from Derek.”

Scott nods, before letting her go and Allison turns to head towards the Sheriff’s office.

* * * * *

Allison comes home on her eighteenth birthday, slightly dejected that neither of the people she thought would be her soulmate actually were. In some ways, she knew it was coming. She and Isaac weren’t quite on that wavelength, as much as she enjoys his company. And as much as she wanted her and Scott to be Romeo and Juliet, she forgot that the play has always been a tragedy. Still, the flutters of hope she had when she woke up that morning have dashed as she returns home to a world that’s still gray-scale.

Chris, predictably, does not know what to do with this.

It’s not that her father has ever not been loving. She saw how he was with her mother, who he always acknowledged as his soulmate, but she also saw the way things frayed at the seams towards the end. She tells him he doesn’t have to make her feel better, and he nods dutifully, but before he leaves her alone in her room, he turns back to face her.

“It’s not the end of the world if you don’t find your soulmate at eighteen, Ally. Most people don’t.”

“I know.” She rests her chin on her knees as she draws them to her chest. “Sometimes I just feel like I’m never going to love anyone the way I loved Scott.”

“You probably won’t.”

She raises an eyebrow at him, and he smirks at her in return. “What you and Scott had was special, loathe as I am to admit it. But every relationship is unique. Every relationship is going to feel different and you’ll love them differently. So no, you might not love someone the way you loved Scott. But that doesn’t mean when the time comes, you won’t know that it’s right just because it doesn’t feel like him.”

Allison doesn’t grasp it immediately, but when the time comes, she knows that she’ll find a way. Also, in some ways, it was good that Scott wasn’t the one. It might have made Chris falling in love with Melissa a little more awkward.

* * * * *

Turns out, Peter is a fairly common name in Beacon Hills. Who’d have thought?

They divide the residency records between the three of them, with Parrish monitoring their witchy friend from across the way. When Allison makes her way over to collect another batch, Parrish takes her arm gently to hold her attention.

“Are you sure we can trust her?”

“I’m not sure that we can’t,” Allison replies, turning to face him. “Why? Is the hound giving you a bad feeling?”

Parrish makes a face, before shaking his head. “I don’t know who this Peter guy is—but before she cast the spell, I remember not thinking it was a good idea. Whoever they’re trying to locate, I don’t think he’s a good person.”

Allison nods, because she understands, but they need answers. “I’ll make sure they stay safe. But we won’t know for sure until we find answers.” And the idea of danger has never stopped Allison from following something through to the end before.

Parrish nods and reluctantly lets her go. They spend another hour going over the documents, before Freya excuses herself for a cup of coffee. And once she does, Lydia strikes.

“So. You and Stiles.”

Allison swallows hard, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah. Me and Stiles.”

“Is he your—”

“Yeah.”

Lydia pauses before smiling softly and nodding. “Good.”

Not the reaction Allison expects. She lifts her head and squints at her friend curiously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That it’s good? That I’m happy for you?” Allison doesn’t lift her stare and Lydia huffs before continuing. “You’re my best friend, and as much as he is my ex, we didn’t break up because of something he did wrong or anything like that. He’s a good boyfriend. Which means he’ll take care of you. Honestly, you need it.”

Allison nods before offering Lydia a small smile. “I feel the same way about you and Scott, for the record. No hard feelings.”

“Good.” Lydia reaches forward and giving her hand a squeeze. Some tension lifts from her shoulders. “We’ll figure this whole missing memory thing out and then hopefully everything will go back to normal.”

Freya returns with her cup of coffee and looks at both of them with a sigh. “Anything?” They both shake their head. “Then let’s keep looking.”

* * * * *

Allison figures out Stiles is her soulmate before he does. Or, at least, she thinks she does. It’s just before they cut their teeth on enough cases to make it to Miami, and the moment itself isn’t anything special. They’re just hanging out, talking, and suddenly Allison can see the purple tinge of his hoodie and the warm brown of his eyes.

He doesn’t falter or react, so Allison keeps it to herself. Unlike Lydia, she doesn’t feel the need to flee or fear what’s coming. She just hopes that one day, he’d catch up with her, eventually. She’s not one to burn a good partnership over something so trivial.

It takes Stiles a long time to catch up, though.

In fact, it takes until after he and Scott talk about Lydia, and he shows up at her dad’s house. He looks a little frantic, a little distracted, and when she appears, he glances around with a nervous smile.

“Your dad home?”

Allison shakes her head. “He and Melissa are having a date night. Why?”

“Good.” He doesn’t answer her question. Instead, he just takes a step forward, his hands finding her hips before leaning in to kiss her.

Allison blinks in surprise, fingers curling into the front of his shirt before sinking into it, feeling the rush of relief that comes with both of them being on the same page. The rightness of it all licks up her spine, and while yes, this doesn’t feel like the first time Scott kissed her, she would even say it’s better. Kissing Stiles feels like coming home, a familiarity and sturdiness that keeps her steady. A recognition of their history, but also the itch of something new, ready to be explored.

She takes a step backwards, giving them enough room to come in from the doorway and let it close behind him. Another couple steps and her back meets the back of the couch, holding her in place as the kiss finally breaks. She smiles, before tipping her head up to look at him.

“Took you long enough to catch up.”

His eyebrows furrow. “How long have you known?”

“A while,” she admits. “I figured you’d get there when you were ready.”

“Mmmmm,” he nods, resting his forehead against hers. “Thanks for not running away from me.”

“Yeah, well. I enjoyed having you around.” She brushes her thumb against his shoulder. “How long have you known?”

“About six months?” He shrugs. “It was slow, you know. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.”

She nods. “It’s weird, isn’t it? To have this friend you’ve known forever, and suddenly they’re that person?”

He nods, before smirking in her direction. “But I can’t think of a better person for it to be.” Allison grins as he leans in to kiss her again, letting the moment bubble up between them, but as Stiles’ hands slide into tempting places, she pulls back.

“Probably shouldn’t be making out right here when my dad comes home.”

Stiles nods, before glancing around the house. “So, which one is your room?”

Allison laughs, before taking his hand and pulling him deeper into the safety of the apartment.

* * * * *

Allison takes the latest file on the stack, flips it open, and frowns. “Did you know Derek had an uncle?”

Lydia’s head lifts. “I thought it was just Derek and Cora.” She blinks and then shakes her head. “No, wait. Malia is his cousin. So yeah, I guess he had to have had one, maybe before the fire?”

Allison shakes her head, turning the file to face her friend. “According to this file, he owns property downtown. As in currently.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. I think we would know if Derek had family in town.” Lydia takes the file to review it, while Freya perks up in interest.

“That would solve one connection for the spell. If Derek was family, then who was he to you, Lydia?”

Lydia glances up before shaking her head, staring down at the picture in front of her. “I—I don’t know.”

“If he was Derek’s uncle, then why would Scott need to—” Allison’s voice trails off as she draws connections—connections she doesn’t fully understand, but needs to because it’s not just Scott and Lydia’s history that’s changed. Her own is in the mix. “Lydia, who turned Scott?”

Lydia looks up at her, because Allison should know the answer to that question. But then again, so should Lydia, as the alpha bit her, too. When the answer comes up empty, she shakes her head, concern coloring her face. “I don’t know.”

Allison nods, before getting up to use one of the white boards. “We’ve been thinking about this the wrong way. It’s not a beta Scott’s missing, it’s an alpha.” She labels the top of the board THE ALPHA before drawing out lines to the rest of the board. “The alpha who bit Scott killed Laura Hale to steal her power, turned Scott, activated you, killed Kate. The one who Derek killed to become an alpha. We should know who he is.”

There are big gaping holes in their memories for a reason, and as she lists them all out, she reaches for Peter’s photo and tapes it up under the title. She then turns back to the two women, putting her focus on Freya.

“The only thing we don’t know is his connection to you.”

Freya gets to her feet, moving closer and staring down the face in front of her, and she looks almost shell-shocked. Like she’s wracking her brain for the source of something familiar but unable to pin it down. “I know this face. I don’t know how or why but… I know him.”

Lydia reaches for Allison’s phone and tosses it to her. “We need to get Derek on the phone. He needs to know, especially if he’s going to Cora and Malia.”

Allison nods, dialing the number and putting the phone to her ear. Whatever did this, this problem might be bigger than they thought.

[Next.]

D ~ stiles/allison ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 2,191

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

Stiles comes home the afternoon that Lydia turns eighteen, apparently looking as dejected as he feels, because the moment his father sees him, his eyes widen.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Stiles replies automatically, not wanting to get into it with anyone. It’s not Lydia’s fault. She did nothing wrong. But while part of him knows the odds aren’t necessarily on his side, he had hoped more than he had any right to hope that when Lydia turned eighteen, she’d see him in color, because clearly they were soulmates. His father had tried to warn him, but he knew his parents' love story would be his.

They dated before they turned eighteen and on their birthdays, their world lit up the second they saw each other. Stiles wanted that to be his and Lydia’s story, too.

“You know I’m the sheriff, right? I am good at reading people?” He glances away from the stove where he’s cooking dinner, putting that intense fatherly gaze to good use. Stiles keeps his mouth shut, trying to stand his ground, but eventually he caves, needing to vent it to someone who’s going to be unequivocally on his side, no matter what.

“Lydia isn’t my soulmate.” Stiles drums his fingers against the counter awkwardly. “Or, at least, I’m not hers.”

Noah’s face softens in response, before reaching forward to place a hand on Stiles’ shoulder gently. “I’m sorry, kid. That couldn’t have been easy to hear.”

Stiles nods, before shrugging. “I just… don’t get it. I’ve loved her for as long as I can remember. We should be soulmates.”

Noah sighs, before pulling his son closer. “I know this is rough. And the idea of soulmates can mess with people’s heads sometimes. But I’m going to tell you what my mom told me. Soulmates are not fate. They’re not a guarantee or even a promise that things are going to be the same forever. It’s not about what you see. It’s about who you choose.”

“Then why didn’t she choose me?”

“She’s only eighteen, Stiles. There can be several reasons. But when the time comes and you’re ready, your soulmate will be there for you. I know they will.”

Stiles nods, but that doesn’t really do much to ease the disappointment. That’s fine, but he still couldn’t help but want it to be her.

* * * * *

Lydia and Scott continue to stare them down from outside the jeep, not looking so much judgmental as confused, as though this scenario was the last thing they expected. Stiles can’t say he blames them there, as it was the last thing he expected, but here they are.

“So… are you two going to explain what this—” she gestures with one hand to the two of them parked in the front seat. “—is, or are we going to guess?”

“Does it actually matter?” Stiles can’t help but feel defensive with Lydia, and he stares her down in return. “You two made it pretty clear that your soulmates are elsewhere.”

“I’m not complaining,” she replies, holding up her hands. “Just… asking.”

“Well, you can just ask later. I think we have bigger fish to fry right now.” He nods towards the stick thin woman with light hair behind them, looking amused at their expense. “I ask again, who are you?”

“Freya Mikaelson.”

Stiles feels Allison’s hand tense against his arm. He doesn’t know the name, but she does. “Like the Original vampires?” she asks, and Freya nods.

“What are Original vampires? Original vampires sounds bad.”

Freya pauses, then shrugs. “He’s not wrong.”

Scott sighs. “There’s some weird stuff that’s been happening.” Stiles can’t tell whether Scott is counting him and Allison in that weirdness, but Scott doesn’t give him time to question it. “C’mon. Let’s talk about it inside.”

Stiles and Allison glance at each other briefly before nodding. This should be good.

* * * * *

First day of Quantico, Stiles runs smack dab into Allison Argent.

Papers go flying, books scatter and when he looks up there she is, dark hair curled around her face and an amused expression. “Hey, stranger. Fancy seeing you here.”

It’s been a while since he’s seen her. The pack had all gone their own separate ways after graduation, and while they were still a pack, Lydia had gotten Allison in the divorce. Which is only fair, as Stiles got Scott, but he’d missed her. His partner in Team Human, he had hoped they would have stuck a little closer together.

“Hey, yourself,” he grins. “Did you know we were going to wind up in the same class?”

“No idea.” She gathers the rest of her dropped things before straightening. “But I’m glad to see you. It’s nice to have someone around to have my back.”

“You know it.” He then grins at her. “You also know that we’re each other’s competition, right?”

“There is more than one spot, you know,” she points out. “If we work together, we can make sure those spots are ours.”

“Fair point,” he glances over to her with a grin as they find a pair of chairs. “So, is this the part where we sabotage everyone else to get to the top?”

Allison’s brow furrows, concerned. “Sabotage, Stiles? Really?”

“Look, I’m just making sure we stay in the game.” Also, he’s kidding. Still, he holds up his hand in a high-five. “Team Human for the win.”

“Team Human for the win,” Allison nods, clasping his hand before pointing a finger. “But no sabotage.”

Stiles sighs, before shaking his head as the instructor appears at the front of the room. “Clearly you have no imagination.”

* * * * *

“So who is this Peter guy?”

Concern colors Allison’s features. The entire story sounds quite ridiculous and Stiles doesn’t blame her for being worried. Especially considering the last time the nematon got involved in questionable magic, she almost died. More to the point, Stiles worries about the gaps in their memory. There’s a lynch pin there that’s missing, and they need to solve it.

“We’re not sure,” Lydia admits. “But from what Freya can tell, he’s heavily tied to all of us, including Derek.”

“But that’s not why we need you guys—well, not one hundred percent why we need you guys.” Scott looks at them apologetically. “There’s also a missing kid.”

“Her name is Hope.” Freya speaks. Stiles assumes they found something relevant to her. “She’s my niece and Klaus Mikaelson’s daughter. We think she might be tied to this Peter guy too, and hunters are looking for her. We need to find her first.”

“So, what do you need? Amber alert?” Stiles is already pulling out his phone to take notes. An amber alert would make their lives easier.

“Yeah. And maybe also head to New Orleans with Derek. We’re going to have them meet up with Cora, Isaac and Malia, but—”

“As soon as we have the information, any hunters on the FBI dime will have it, too. No, it makes sense.” Stiles glances over to Allison, looking at her curiously. “What do you want to do? Stay here or go.”

“I think I need to stay. Whoever this Peter guy is, it feels like I might have some of the information too, and I want to see where this leads.”

“Then I’ll meet up with Derek.” He pauses and holds up his phone before stepping back. “Let me call him to talk to this Hayley chick and get the details we need.”

And with that, he turns to head out, doing his best to switch into job mode and fighting this uneasy feeling he has about leaving Allison behind.

* * * * *

While Stiles and Allison make it through the Quantico grind, they do not, unfortunately, get their dream job in LA or New York. They find themselves in the middle of Bumfuck Nowhere, Iowa, like the rest of the probies, trying to earn their ranks just like everyone else. But the Bureau quickly figures out that Allison and Stiles make a pretty talented team. They’re partnered together pretty quickly, and each promotion and transfer they get ascends them through the ranks until they land a pretty decent assignment in Austin, where there are enough cases to keep their inquiring minds busy, but not so busy that they never have time for anything else.

This evening has them on a stakeout, watching a suspect from one of their kidnapping cases to see if they make any sudden moves. They’re not making much, so it’s mostly just him and Allison eating bad snacks and talking about anything and everything.

“I really missed this, you know? Hanging out together?” Allison turns to him with a small smile. “I know both me and Lydia made things weird when you guys weren’t our soulmates, but we made a good team.”

“Yeah, we always did.” Stiles glances over with a smile. “I know I was a bit of a dick back then too, so I’m sorry about that.”

“I don’t think anyone blames you. In fact, at least Lydia only disappointed one person.” She winces. “I wound up disappointing two.”

Stiles smirks in response. “Full disclosure? Isaac got over you pretty quickly.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. He and Cora are a terrifying, unsettling thing now. Derek one hundred percent fully hates it.”

Allison laughs before shaking her head. “I did not know that.”

Stiles smirks. “See? Look at all the hot gossip you miss out on when you and Lydia go off to do your own thing.” Allison shakes her head, and he takes a sip of his coffee before turning back to her. “Can I ask you a weird question?”

She glances over to the clock on her phone, and winces when she sees that they’re creeping up on two AM. “Sure, it’s about that time of night.”

“Did you want it to be Scott?” Stiles tips his head to the side as he considers her. “I mean, me and Lydia were always kind of just missing each other, and I was never really sure where we stood, but I hoped. You and Scott, though—you were the real deal.”

Allison considers quietly, drumming her fingers against the arm of the chair as she thinks. “I think I did. Like I was so sure that we were it. But when I went home and talked to my dad about it, he said that soulmates aren’t so much about what you want as what feels right. But in the end, it’s still a choice. I think my head was choosing Scott because it’s what made sense, but my heart—”

“Your heart knew that there was something different out there.”

“Yeah, exactly.” She smiles at him. “And that I’d find it when I was ready.”

Stiles nods. “That’s what my dad said too.” And he feels that tug to say more. To find the pieces of feelings that he’s been having over the years, and say them to her, but right now, he doesn’t even know what it is.

He doesn’t have the words for it then. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t see the spots of color blooming on her cheeks.

* * * * *

After getting the details and a picture from Derek’s new friend Hayley and getting the amber alert set up, Stiles lingers in the parking lot, eyes fixed on his baby blue jeep. It’s been a long time since he’s seen Roscoe live and in living color and he can’t help but smile at it, feeling the way things are coming together like they’re supposed to. He still doesn’t know how to put into words his feelings for Allison, but they’re at least heading in the right direction.

It’s also strange, not having the words. Stiles usually is so great at words, but he can also acknowledge that often, he says a lot without really saying anything at all.

The door to the clinic opens, and he turns to find Allison emerging, sliding her hands into her pockets as she makes her way closer. “Amber alert up?”

“Yep. My flight leaves in an hour, but I’ll keep you posted with updates.”

“Good,” Allison nods, before turning to face him more. “When you get back, we need to have a talk about this—” She gestures to the space between the two of them, and he knows what she means. “A real talk. A talk that does not end in making out.”

Stiles pouts. “Not even a little making out.”

She rolls her eyes. “Not until we’ve actually talked.”

He smirks. “Fair enough.” Taking a step closer, his hand finds her arm gently. “Just be careful, okay? You said it yourself that the Mikaelsons are bad news.”

“You too. Make sure Derek watches your back and you watch his.”

“Always.” He lifts his hand, cupping her cheek gently before leaning in to kiss her again. Dark curls tangle around his fingers as he keeps her close. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

Allison nods in agreement, meeting his eyes with a smile. “See you on the other side.”

[Next.]

E ~ cora/isaac ~ teen wolf/the vampire diaries ~ 1,910

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous]

“Two things,” Stiles says as he bursts into the living room the next morning. Cora and Isaac are curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee and he glances between the two of them for a moment before shaking his head. “That never gets any less weird.”

“Do you want to say what you want to say, or do you want to get punched in the face?” Cora retorts, and it snaps him out of whatever reverie he seems to be trapped in.

“Right. One, Caroline called. She found the guy claiming to be your brother.”

Her stomach drops, just a little, followed by a flash of confusion. She doesn’t know why, but part of her is concerned with grasping for more than she has. This guy, Derek, probably wants to see her, but she does not know how to deal with him. Stiles looks at her strangely.

“What? Aren’t you happy they’re back?”

“Ecstatic,” she comments dryly. “Where are they?”

“Mystic Falls, at the Salvatore School. I gave Caroline your number and she should text you right about … now.”

As predicted, Cora’s phone dings with the sound of an incoming text. She confirms that the unknown number is Caroline and nods. “Thanks. What’s the second thing?”

“I am headed out of town for a bit. We got a lead on where Peter might head, and I’m going to beat him to it.”

Cora doesn’t know how she feels about that one. She doesn’t remember Peter, but everything she can tell from the gaps he left behind shows that he’s dangerous. “Do we know how they got out of this pit thing?”

“That’s why I’m going to cut Peter off. He made a deal with the Malivore and one piece of that deal is a seven-year-old kid.”

Her stomach sinks again, but this time it isn’t because of nerves. Who knows what Peter will do to get what he wants? Isaac’s arm tightens around her shoulder, feeling her discomfort through their bond. “You should take Malia.”

Stiles frowns. “You think?”

Cora nods. “You’re fragile and human, and if Peter will kill Laura to get what he wants, then I doubt he will hesitate to do the same to you if you get in his way. But Malia is his daughter—at least, we think—maybe that might slow him down.”

Stiles nods slowly, weighing the implications in his mind. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll see where she and Jeremy are.”

“Good.” Cora swallows hard. “Be careful, Stiles.”

Stiles glances back at her with a smirk. “So you’re saying that despite the threats of violence, you actually enjoy having me around?”

The disquieting feelings swirling within her are immediately replaced with annoyance and she rolls her eyes. “Go away, Stiles.”

“This is my apartment.” She swings her arm to chuck a pillow at him, and he waves a hand. “Alright, alright, I’m out of here. I’ll call you when I track Peter down.”

* * * * *

She’s quiet the few hours it takes for them to get to Mystic Falls. Pulling into the shaded driveway of the Salvatore School causes her anxiety to spike and Isaac reaches over to cover her hand with his, giving it a small squeeze.

“You don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to.”

“Caroline is expecting us.”

“I know. And we can cancel. We can go crash at the bed-and-breakfast and take our time. We could go back to New York. You don’t have to deal with this right now.”

The options have merit, and she’s tempted to consider them. This man got himself erased from her memory, not the other way around. She has nothing to apologize for; he does. She could do this all in her own time. But part of her is already yearning for another piece of family, someone that was close to Laura. And part of her is so angry she doesn’t know what she’d do if she actually sees him face to face.

In the end, she knows she can’t leave. Not until she confronts him. She squeezes Isaac’s hand back, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek before opening the door. “Yes, I do.”

If this goes badly, however, going home might be next on the agenda.

Caroline meets them at the door of the school, and she seems a little unduly nervous. At least, until Cora remembers what Stiles mentioned about Caroline being Derek’s supposed soulmate. Then, the moment becomes so much more awkward, because Cora barely knows how to deal with having a brother, let alone one that has a soulmate that’s nervous to meet her.

“Cora Hale?” she asks, and Cora nods.

“Thanks for keeping us in the loop.”

“Of course. He’s your family.” Caroline shakes her hand before turning to the tall man behind her. “And you’re—”

“Isaac.” He shakes Caroline’s hand with a nod. “I’m with her.”

“Got it. Nice to meet you, Isaac.” She then steps back and gestures for the two of them to follow her. “If you’ll come right this way.”

The trek through the school is more chaotic than Cora expected. The school itself is a swirl of smells and noise, students bouncing from one room to another coated in the scents of werewolves, witches and vampires. It’s—nice, in its own way. Oddly comforting that there are places where maybe it won’t be the end of the world every year. It’s why she left Beacon Hills, after all.

When they turn to head towards the basement, rooms that stink of fear and anxiety, she can feel Isaac tense next to her. She reaches out, giving his hand a small squeeze before asking. “Where are we going?”

“The werewolf rooms,” she replies. “Those that are part of the Hollow’s curse can’t control the shift how your wolf can. It’s…a lot more traumatizing as a result, but we do our best to help them.”

“And my brother is down here?” Cora raises an eyebrow. “Do you think he’s dangerous or something?”

“He put himself down here,” Caroline replies, before stopping at the last room in the row. “He can explain it better than I can.”

Cora stops at the door again. She knows that he likely heard them coming and knows she’s here. Can catch her scent through the barred windows on the door. But he doesn’t rush to the door, trying to get her attention, and maybe there’s a part of him that’s just as nervous about this as she is.

Part of her still wants to leave, and she glances back at Isaac. He shrugs, almost as though silently confirming that his offer in the car still stands. They can leave. They don’t have to see him. But tempted as she is, she needs to do this. She needs to know for sure.

Cora looks to Caroline and nods, and she pulls out a set of keys, unlocking the door to let her in. The man who claims to be Derek Hale is sitting on a cot, with his back against the wall. He has a stack of books on the floor next to him—they look like older textbooks. But he looks up at her, both like he can’t believe she’s here, but also being very glad she is.

And he smells like family. She doesn’t know how, but he does. It’s something that is impossible to fake, even if wanted to con her. Whoever this man is, he’s definitely her brother. And she hates he placed her in this situation, that a piece of her life has been erased so cleanly.

“Cora,” he begins, getting to his feet. “I’m glad you—”

He barely gets the words out before she swings, hitting him square in the jaw and sending him sprawling back against the cot.

“Oh, my god!” Caroline darts forward, but Isaac stops her.

“He kind of deserves it.”

“He’s right. I do.” He looks over at Isaac for a moment, and there’s something in his expression that Cora can’t put a finger on. “Isaac.”

“You say that like you know me.”

“I would hope so. I’m the one that turned you.”

Isaac’s expression flickers, and Cora can feel a swell of confusion, but also relief. Regardless, he turns to Caroline and guides them away from the door. “We should give them a minute.” Caroline doesn’t disagree.

Once their footsteps retreat up the stairs, Cora turns back to Derek, arms crossed in front of her chest. “You’re a dick.”

“I don’t disagree.”

“Why would you volunteer for something like this? If you knew it, could get you erased from someone’s memory?”

“Someone had to. And Peter was already in the pit—I needed to understand what it all meant.”

Cora wants to punch him again, but she curbs the impulse. Punching him bloody might make her feel better, but it will not get them anywhere. She takes a deep breath, hands unclenching at her sides, and she moves to her next line of questioning. “Why are you locked up down here?”

“Peter made a deal to get us out of Malivore. The rest of us didn’t want to, but he went over our heads.”

“Why didn’t you want to?”

“Because part of it involved kidnapping a seven-year-old and turning it over to Malivore so he could use him as some kind of human meat puppet.” Derek shakes his head. “Allison, Freya, and I all refused. But Peter…he had been in the pit longer than we had. He wanted out.”

“And you getting free of the pit doesn’t fix the memory problem?”

“Apparently not. But Caroline says that Hayley might have witches working on a solution for that.”

Cora nods again, still not sure how to feel about any of this. “Great. Well, when they figure that out, you let me know.”

And she leaves.

The door closes behind her, and she hears it latch. There’s a flash of hurt from the other werewolf in the room, but it’s not disappointment. Clearly, he knows her well enough. She trudges up the stairs, back out the way she came and perches on the hood of the car, waiting for Isaac to come out and join her.

He does, maybe ten minutes after. He moves to sit on the hood of the car next to her and takes her hand. “You good?”

“Not really.” She leans gently into his shoulder, wanting to feel the connection between them more than anything. “I don’t know if we’re in the middle of this now—” And that had been part of the point of their staying in New York, trying to keep out of the danger. “—but don’t let yourself get thrown into a tar pit that’ll erase you from my memory. Promise me.”

“Promise. And I don’t want to be in this any more than you do.” He looks back at the road ahead of them. “Going home is still an option.”

He’s right. They could hit the road right now and be home before midnight. But she shakes her head and slides off the hood of the car. “Malia said there’s a key under the mat. Let’s just—sleep on it, first?” Whatever this fight may be, she has a feeling they might be needed. And when she gets her memories back, she wants to be close.

Because she’s getting her brother back. Whatever it takes.

[Next.]

F ~ freya/peter ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 2,258

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

Freya wants to be anywhere but Beacon Hills Memorial right now. There’s too much work to be done.

After receiving the McCall pack’s condolences on the universe’s choice of soulmate for her, she sends them off with a request of a list of ingredients that she’d need for the spell. They don’t seem thrilled about jumping through all these hoops for Peter Hale, but Derek convinces them it’s worthwhile if it gets Freya out of their hair.

It’s not a wrong assumption.

Once they’re gone, she reaches for the various tubes and wires, looking to disconnect herself from these infernal machines as soon as possible.

“Freya, stop.” Hayley’s hands come out of nowhere to pin hers to the bed, stopping her from whatever she’s doing.

“We need to find the nematon so I can get started.”

“You almost bled to death.”

“You can give me some of your blood now. It won’t mess with the spell field.”

“No.” Hayley’s hands tighten, using a bit of her superior strength to pin the witch down, almost as though she knows her reserves are too low to waste any on anything other than the locator spell. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what happened.”

Freya purses her lips, but stops struggling. “Peter was digging into a group of hunters learning from an old nemesis of his. He found out that they had joined forces with a secret organization called Triad. He came back to see what my brothers might know abut it, but they followed him.”

“And they’re the ones who took him?”

“He took Hope while Klaus tried to hold them off. Ran into the Quarter. The next thing I know I’m—”

Before she can finish the sentence, her body convulses, and her heartbeat spikes. Freya lets out a scream of pain as it feels like a wave of electricity shoots through her—phantom pains, so she can only imagine that what Peter’s going through is much worse.

She’s assaulted by a series of images through Peter’s eyes. An electricity generator connected to a chain-link fence. Faces of hunters who are asking him some kind of question, but the words aren’t coming through. Eventually, the pain subsides, and she collapses back against the bed.

“Freya?” Hayley’s concern is clear, and Freya shakes her head.

“They’re torturing him,” she murmurs, scrubbing her face. “Occasionally I’ll get… flashes.”

“I didn’t know you two had bonded that close.” Hayley frowns. “Peter had Hope? Does that mean…?”

She shakes her head. “I haven’t seen her in any of the visions. He wouldn’t have let them hurt her. He would have hidden her somewhere safe first.”

Hayley nods, scrubbing her hands over her face. “Where’s Klaus?”

“That, I don’t know.” She swallows hard. “Someone shot me. When I came to, I was alone. But if you’re still seeing in color, then…”

“Then he’s still alive.” Hayley nods. “I know. I’ve been holding on to that. But now I don’t know where my daughter is.”

Freya reaches forward and places a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find them. All of them. But in order to do that—”

“I need to get you out of here. I know.” Checking to make sure that none of the nurses and doctors were coming, Hayley bites into her wrist before offering it to Freya to drink. She swallows the metallic taste greedily, almost as though it might will it to work faster. Soon, she was feeling steadier, the aftershocks of the vision wearing off, and she moves to swing to her feet.

“Find me pants,” Freya orders. “We have a tree to find.”

* * * * *

Another wave of pain hits her as the two of them settle into the car Derek left behind for them, and Freya grips the door handle as she tries to force away the pain. She’s in the passenger’s seat, fortunately, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear. This time she can make out more of the faces of those responsible, make out a few more of the words, but she still doesn’t know what they want from him.

Part of her wants to reach back, try to tell him she’s coming for him. That she will do her best to recover him quickly, even if it takes all the magic she has left. From him, all she can feel is pain and stubborn indignation.

“Freya?” Hayley asks again, just to be sure, and Freya shakes her head as she comes out of it.

“Drive.”

The drive into the preserve is slow, with Hayley slowly navigating her way through the small paths until they reach a clearing with a large tree stump. Standing there is what looks like a sheriff’s deputy, who peers at them both curiously. There’s something more to him, though Freya can’t quite put her finger on what.

“You’re new,” he comments.

“We’re visiting. Scott McCall knows we’re here and we need to borrow the nematon.” Freya doesn’t have time for local politics, but he relaxes at the idea of Scott knowing they’re here. She goes to commune with the tree, settling on the top of the stump and crossing her legs under her.

“Right.” The man turns to the other woman curiously. “Jordan Parrish.”

“Hayley Marshall. And that’s Freya Mikaelson. Scott didn’t tell you we were coming?”

Parrish shakes his head. “No, I, uh. Have a special relationship with the tree.” There’s a long, uncomfortable pause. “I’m a hellhound.”

“That makes sense.” Freya opens her eyes and enters the conversation, studying him curiously. “It’s been a long time since I’ve come across one of your kind. But then again, it’s been a long time since I’ve had need for a nematon.”

“If you don’t mind my asking—” Parrish is very polite. Very different from the last hellhound Freya encountered. “—what exactly do you want with the nematon?”

“We’re trying to find Peter Hale.”

Parrish’s face sours almost immediately. “Are you sure you want to?”

“Good to see that Peter still makes friends wherever he goes,” Freya sighs, getting the sense that no one in this town actually cares about the person she’s come to depend on. Not that she had any delusions about the man Peter was, but she had expected a little more concern.

Hayley sighs. “He’s in trouble, and it’s making her a little cranky.”

Parrish shakes his head. “No, I’m sure even he has people who care about him. I just don’t run into them that often.”

Another pair of headlights appears over the crest of the hill, and Scott, Lydia and Derek climb out of the car, with the bag of ingredients she asked for. She reaches forward to take them, and Scott eyes the nematon suspiciously.

“You’re not going to wake that up anymore than it already is, are you?”

Freya shakes her head. “Just borrowing a little extra juice, that’s all.”

“How does this spell work, exactly?” Derek asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Usually a locator spell just needs something that belongs to them.”

“Yes, but wherever he is, he’s being cloaked so I need to take a more direct approach.” Freya looks over at Scott and Lydia. “The bite he gave you both is a metaphysical bond. A sharing of energy that an alpha gives to their betas, whether they’re birthing them or biting them. Even if the alpha is no longer an alpha, that bond remains.” He then glances over at Derek. “And you’re family, by blood, even if not by choice. With a mix of all our bloods, and the right enchantment, I might break through whatever they’re using to cloak him.”

“Why your blood?” Parrish asks and Freya grits her teeth, not wanting to explain this again. Thankfully—or not—Lydia speaks up for her.

“Peter’s her soulmate.”

Parrish winces. “I’m sorry.” Though at least it seems like he’s apologizing for his commentary, rather than the fact that it’s Peter. Still, Freya grits her teeth in protest.

“I really wish people would stop—”

Another vision assaults her, and she lets out a cry of pain, slumping forward on the stump. Instinctively, her body draws some of the tree’s power and things solidify, pushing through the pain and the white hot murderous rage that she’s acutely familiar with as being Peter’s.

“You’re going to tell us where the tribrid is, mutt.” The hunter sneers, flipping the switch on the generator again. “We’ll get the truth out of you. And then? Well, they’ll never see us coming.”

Freya jerks out of the vision to find Derek and Hayley, both leaning over her, concerned. Freya reaches up, swiping at the trickling sensation under her nose and coming back with blood.

“You can’t do this,” Hayley protests. “The visions are taking too much out of you.”

“They don’t have Hope,” Freya rasps, focusing on Hayley. “They’re torturing him to find out where he hid her.”

Something like relief flows through Hayley, and she shakes her head. “Still, this is too much. He won’t give her up, and you know that.”

“Are you sure?” Lydia replies. “The Peter we know only cares about his own skin.” Freya and Hayley turn two stern glares at the redhead, but Derek is the one who speaks.

“Not if it’s a kid,” Derek shakes his head. “I can’t believe he’s that far gone that he would sacrifice a little girl.” Derek looks back over at the other two. “You guys don’t have to help us find him, but I will.”

“No,” Scott shakes his head. “I’ll help. If it keeps your daughter safe.”

“Thank you,” Hayley nods. “But I still don’t think Freya is up for this.”

“Just give me a little more blood, and I’ll be fine.”

“And if you die and go into transition.”

“I won’t die.”

“Freya—”

“I won’t die,” Freya’s voice softens. “I can handle this. But we need to get started. We can’t keep debating this.”

Hayley takes a deep breath before nodding. “Okay. Okay. But if it looks like you’re overloading yourself, I’m pulling the plug.”

Freya nods, taking whatever small win she can get before gesturing for the bag of supplies the trio brought her. She pulls out a wooden bowl and a knife before extending it to each of them. “I need you all to bleed into this. I’ll take care of the rest.”

She just hopes they aren’t running out of time.

* * * * *

Starting the spell comes easily. She takes the bowl of blood and pours it over the map in front of her. The longer she chants, the mixture flows outwards, creating a winding path away from them towards the person she’s looking for. The problem is, Peter is far, far away, so progress is slow.

Still, she keeps chanting. The blood has made it to Oklahoma City, when the low simmering rage she’s learned to recognize as Peter changes to a spike of fear. It comes suddenly enough that her concentration falters, and she places a hand over her chest.

“Something’s wrong.”

“He’s being tortured,” Derek points out. “You already knew that.”

“Yes, but when that was happening, he was angry. Now he’s scared.”

Scott, Lydia and Derek all look between each other, because the idea of Peter Hale fearing anything is apparently a new concept. She can feel the threads of her magic lessening, and she tries to refocus again, grabbing the fraying ends and pulling them close again. The blood progresses, making its way over New Orleans and continuing forward, before she can see the brown of Hayley’s hair and the green of Derek’s eyes fading.

“No. No, no, no.” Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. She reaches forward for the blood bowl, trying to increase her connection to the power. The spell is fraying, and she doesn’t know how this fell apart. It shouldn’t have been this hard to find…

Who was she looking for? Someone important. Someone necessary. Someone —

Peter. She forces the name out and begins drawing her finger through the blood in sharp letters until the spell cuts off completely, and she feels like someone has ripped her heart from her chest. As the tether snaps, the magic breaks, and her consciousness fades into darkness.

* * * * *

“Freya? Freya!”

Freya opens her eyes to the gray scale shadows of Hayley’s face leaning over her, along with Derek and Scott. She groans, her head pressing to her forehead at the headache that won’t subside. Derek’s hand supports her as she slides into a sitting position and she lets out a groan.

“That was more backlash than I expected.” Freya rubs at the back of her neck. She doesn’t feel right, but who does when trying to recover from a bad spell. “What—what was I trying to do?”

“Honestly, I hoped you could tell me.” Hayley shifts to lean over the map, studying the information that remained. “It looks like some kind of locator spell.”

Freya eyes the ingredients curiously, still confused at what she’s doing here. Or why she even left New Orleans in the first place, what with her brother and niece missing. Or was this a part of it? Why would she go to Beacon Hills to cast a locator spell for Hope?

Derek leans in from the other side, before pointing at the name, finger printed in blood in front of them. “Who’s Peter?”

Freya blinks before tipping her head to the side curiously. “I have no idea.”

[Next.]

G ~ tyler/elena ~ tvdverse/teen wolf ~ 2,156

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous]

When Elena breaks the sire bond, her world dims just a little.

At first, she chalks it up to having spent so much time with her emotions off. Her world going gray when she literally had no ability to care makes sense. She doesn’t know what to make of it, if she’s completely honest. The magic built her sire bond with her love for Damon, so clearly it must be an epic love. A grand love. A soulmate bond, twisted into something perverse by the dark magic that made them what they were. So she keeps trying with Damon, hoping that the bond would renew and things would feel as bright as it used to be.

When Elena takes the cure, she realizes she spent all that time grasping at something that wasn’t real.

To his credit, Damon let her go. He offers to drive her to Caroline or Bonnie’s. He even tells her he can go while she stays—his vision is still in color, and he doesn’t know how or why. But in the end, she needs to be alone. She climbs into her car and drives back into town, trying to figure out where she’s going to stay, if not with the Salvatores.

In the end, that place winds up being the Lockwood Mansion.

“Ty? Jeremy? Is anyone here?”

She closes the door behind her, and footsteps sound on the stairs not long after. Tyler slows about halfway down, catching the change in her scent. “You took the cure.”

“Yeah.” She plays with the strap of her bag. “Is it okay if I stay here for a little while?”

“Of course.” He doesn’t hesitate, and it’s then that he springs into action, coming down the rest of the way. “Why here?”

“You’re the only other person who’s broken a sire bond,” she admits, running a hand through her hair. “And I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

Tyler watches her, his face softening with understanding that only someone who’s been through what they’ve been through would know. “There’s an empty guest room, top of the stairs on the right. Want me to fix you a drink?”

Elena nods, grateful for the understanding as she moves to the stairs. “Yeah. That would be great.”

* * * * *

Tyler returns to their bedroom and looks at her with a smirk. “The vampire is out of the bag with Stiles, just so you know.”

Elena sags in response, relieved that things are out in the open. “I’m surprised she kept it a secret this long.” There’s a beat. “I mean, they have only known each other less than a day, so maybe I should be a little surprised, but… this is our lives.”

He snorts as he slides under the covers next to her, snaking one arm around her waist to draw her closer. “I think the guy will get over with. Caroline is one of the least evil people we’ve ever met.”

“It’s true,” Elena smiles. “I have every faith in her ability to win him over with her endless sunshine.” She lets out a soft sigh as she settles into Tyler’s arms, resting her hand over his arm. “How are you doing with all of this?”

“With Caroline’s soulmate situation, or the New Orleans situation?”

Elena smirks. “Oh, I think Caroline’s soulmate situation is going to be comedy gold for a long time. I meant more the New Orleans situation.” The New Orleans situation involves actively helping Klaus, and she doesn’t think that’s something he really wants to do. It’s not something she wants to do.

Tyler sighs as he rests his chin against her shoulder. “Do I want Klaus’s crazy witch sister in our house? No, not really. And I’m not going to advise running off to help him by any means. But we can protect Hope. She’s a kid. She’s innocent in all of this.”

“Yeah, she is.” Elena rolls over to face him. “I want to know about this Peter guy, though. Why we would go to New Orleans to get her from him. Why we trust him.”

“Yeah, me too.” Tyler brushes his hands through her hair. “Things are going to get crazy either way though.”

“We’ll be safe.” She looks up at him with a smile before leaning in to kiss him. “Things will be bad for a little while, but they’ll get better.”

Tyler smiles softly, before leaning in to kiss her again. “Yeah, they will.”

* * * * *

Tyler, being her soulmate, snuck up on her. It wasn’t a burst of emotion the way Stefan and Damon had been, or something so obvious that she couldn’t avoid like Matt. So many of the same events wounded both of them she couldn’t avoid the things that drew them together.

Mystic Falls is quieter than she remembers. It feels like a ghost of the world she used to know, a place that used to be home, but wasn’t anymore. Damon and Enzo were dead, having died to save the people she loved, and she didn’t even get to say goodbye. As much as Damon wasn’t her soulmate, he’s still a huge part of her life, and she would have wanted at least that closure. Caroline and Bonnie try to help, but it just isn’t the same.

They have their own lives. Their own worlds. She’s been asleep for years, and she doesn’t know what to do next. Even Jeremy found his own soulmate while she was gone.

She sits on a bench in the middle of the town square, and suddenly Tyler is sitting next to her, glancing over with a smirk. “Was wondering where you went.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were keeping track of me.”

“I’ve spent the past five years driving around with you and making sure nothing happened to you.” Tyler nods. “I even talked to you a lot on the road. You just didn’t talk back.”

“Yeah?” Elena’s head tips to the side as she reaches for his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Thank you for that.”

“Of course,” Tyler looks back at her. “You’re one of my oldest friends, Elena. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.”

“Even go kind of crazy talking to yourself on an endless road trip?”

He laughs. “Even that. But Mystic Falls wasn’t good for me then, anyway. So it’s not like I had anywhere else to be.”

She nods, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m not sure if Mystic Falls is good for me anymore either.”

Tyler watches her quietly, his thumb coming up to brush over the back of her hand. “You could come with me, you know. Actually talk to me on the road this time?”

There’s something about the idea that’s appealing. That she could just let go of the traumatic anchors that moored her to Mystic Falls and restart her life somewhere else has its merits. But she doesn’t know if she’s the type to take her life on the road.

“You actually want me to go with you?”

“You are not terrible company, Elena Gilbert.” He says it so matter-of-factly, that it takes her by surprised. Maybe she has been moored down in the terrible things that happen to her for too long.

“What about Bonnie and Caroline?”

“Bonnie is taking her own road trip soon. And Caroline is getting ready to start a school. They’ve had you all to themselves for more than a month now, and eventually you guys are going to have to move on.”

He has a point. She takes a deep breath, and as she nods, she can already feel the weight lifting. “Yeah. I think that’d be good.”

* * * * * *

Hayley rides into town with Elena the next day, picking up clothes and things that she and Hope may need moving forward while Elena completes her grocery run for the house. Her family medicine practice is closed today, but the close knit community greets her warmly all the same. Building a life for herself here had seemed weird at first, but the longer they’ve lingered, the better things have become.

“Small towns have always weirded me out,” Hayley comments as they put some of Hope’s favorite cereal into the cart.

“Well, you don’t have to live here,” Elena quips, pushing the cart forward and she can see the “I touched a nerve” look in the other woman’s eyes.

“Look, I know the locals of Mystic Falls don’t exactly have the fondest memories of me,” Hayley turns as she follows her. “But if you have issues with Hope staying with you—”

“Hope isn’t the one we’re worried about,” Elena sighs. “She’s innocent in all of this. She’s just a kid.” Not that the Mikaelsons ever gave her as much consideration, ruining her life at seventeen, but that’s not the point. She’s not stooping to their level. “Look, I know we’re not enemies any more but given everything Klaus has done to both of us, we’re not exactly jumping for joy at the idea of saving him.”

“I get that,” Hayley nods, running her hand through her hair. “And I will not try to defend Klaus. But as you said, Hope is innocent in all of this.”

“She is. And she can stay with us for however long you guys need until you determine she’s safe. Just… don’t take it personally if we’ve revoked your invitation by the time you get back.”

Hayley nods with a small smile. “Fair enough.” She pauses at the head of the aisle, before turning to face her. “For what it’s worth? I’m glad that you and Tyler made it work. You seem thrilled.”

“We are.” Elena nods as she grabs a bag of chips from the shelf. “Thank you for noticing.”

* * * * *

They stop at a broad piece of land, with plenty of trees and wide open spaces. Elena climbs out of the car, listening to the quiet of the wind through the trees and the calmness of the space. She takes a deep breath of the fresh air and feels the way her shoulders relax.

In a lot of ways, it feels like there’s safety here. It may be delusions of grandeur, that a werewolf and a doppelganger can seclude themselves in the woods and pretend that the rest of the world doesn’t matter, but Elena would love to try.

“Here,” she nods, as she moves to the front of the car and leans against the hood with him. “Let’s build it here.”

Tyler nods in return, before leaning in to kiss her softly. “Sounds perfect.”

* * * * *

Hayley leaves to pick up Freya from the airport, and Elena finds Hope watching her leave from the living room window. The headlights disappear from behind the gate, and Hope looks back at the older woman with a frown.

“Do you think that we’ll find my dad?”

“I think so,” Elena nods. “We can do what we put our minds to.”

Hope nods, before moving to sit next to her. “I know you don’t like my dad much, but thanks for helping.”

Elena nods. “I may not like your dad much, but I do like you.” She smiles softly. “I’d like to think we’re almost friends, and when you have friends, you do what you can to help them.”

Hope swallows, before leaning into Elena’s side. “Why do I remember Peter when you don’t?”

“I don’t know, sweetie.” Elena squeezes her shoulders. “Maybe your aunt will figure it out. But it’s a good thing that you do. If you didn’t, we wouldn’t know that something happened to him.”

Hope sighs. “I don’t think Peter’s a good man, either. But he makes my aunt really happy. And I like him.” She pauses. “Does it make me bad if I like bad people?”

“No.” Elena takes a deep breath. “But it helps if you try to challenge them to be better.”

“Does it work?”

“Not always. But sometimes it’s worth it.” She squeezes Hope again as Tyler appears in the doorway. “Are you hungry? I can smell Caroline cooking in the kitchen from here and I’m not even a werewolf.”

Hope nods and bounces to her feet, dashing off to the kitchen to get some food. Elena smiles and moves to meet her boyfriend halfway, sliding her arms around his neck.

“Maybe when things quiet down again, we can start having our own next steps.”

“You think so?” Tyler smirks as he leans in to kiss her. “I think I could be down with that.”

“Good,” she grins as they kiss, before Caroline’s voice comes from the kitchen.

“Stop being gross and come in and eat!”

Elena sighs as she pulls back. “Oh, her staying here is going to be fun.”

Tyler laughs as he shakes his head. “Yeah, you bet.”

[Next.]

H ~ scott/lydia ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 2,694

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

The rest of the pack shuffles into the room. All of them called home from their scattered points across the country, but Scott can’t bring himself to focus. Not with what he knows now. Not with all the instances over the past five years that suddenly start making more sense.

Like how Lydia went from being his right hand with Stiles gone, to putting distance between them. On the way, she didn’t seem to expect anything from him after she and Stiles broke up, despite being his friend. The way she barely said goodbye when she disappeared, and while there were plenty of texts and phone calls over the years, she wasn’t huge on FaceTime or video calls. She was running from the answer to a question that she wasn’t sure he was ready to hear, and he let her.

He thinks about how he missed her. He thinks about the Lydia shaped hole she left behind and how he was sad. He thought at first that it was because he lost a friend who had been with him through so much, but now he recognizes that there’s more than that.

Even if he didn’t know that she was his soulmate, he knew Lydia needed to be there. He knew that having her seat next to him empty was something that had to be fixed one day. That urge to fly across the country on a whim just to see her and see with his own two eyes that she was okay. None of that ever really went away the way it should have.

And now, the longer they sit in this meeting, the more the color spreads through the room. He can make out the shiny silver of the medical tables, the vibrant pink of Malia’s jacket. Everything that had faded from memory over the last five years coming back to him in a rush of color.

Part of him almost is angry at her for keeping this from him for so long. For knowing what she did and keeping him in the dark. But in the end, he knows that if things were reversed?

He might have done the same.

They get through the meeting without him looking too distracted—Derek fills them in on the information he knows about this new hunter, Monroe, and her tactics. They need to make a plan, and for now, they have a few good starting points as they gather information, but nothing wholly actionable.

So when their friends trickle out, he notices Lydia lingering behind. Stiles comes over and claps him on the shoulder with a grin.

“So whadaya say, buddy? Trip out to the diner for curly fries for old time’s sake.”

Usually something like that would be an offer that Scott couldn’t refuse, especially given how long it’s been since he and Stiles have had some solid one-on-one time. But he also knows that he can’t sit in the diner pretending everything’s fine, knowing what he knows now about Lydia. Especially with it being about Lydia.

The two of them need to get on the same page first, as much as he wants quality time with his best friend. “I got an early morning tomorrow. But maybe after work? I’ll meet you there.”

Stiles’ eyebrows go up. “When did you turn into a responsible adult?”

“You’ve been gone a long time.” Scott claps him on the shoulder. “But tomorrow. On me, okay?”

“Alright,” Stiles nods, before glancing over his shoulder and seeing Lydia still standing there. “You need a ride?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve got my mom’s car. But thanks though.”

“Alright. Then I guess I’ll go find my own fun.” And with that, he takes a deep breath, rubbing his hands together as he leaves. “See you tomorrow, Scotty.”

Scott nods and watches as the familiar blue Jeep disappears from the parking lot, the weight sitting heavily on his shoulders. When he’s certain that the parking lot is quiet and no one is coming back, he turns to Lydia with a sigh.

“We need to talk.”

“Yeah.” Lydia swallows hard. “My mom’s out tonight. She told me not to wait up for her. We could get pizza and talk?”

Scott swallows before nodding. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

He just hopes this gets no more awkward than it already is.

* * * * *

“So… what do we do?”

He waits until they finish up the first pie. Lydia spends the time filling the silence with talk about her life in Boston, but eventually there’s a point where Scott can’t dance around things anymore, and he knows they need to make a choice.

“I don’t know,” Lydia admits. “I thought that giving this time would give me the answers I needed, but apparently, it’s not that easy.” She places the pizza down before taking a long sip from her glass of wine. “I have missed you, though. This hasn’t really been easy.”

“Oh.” He’s not sure what he should say to that, and that flare of anger he’s been trying to stamp out pushes up again. “I guess living a life full of color and lying to your soulmate sounds pretty hard.” He winces before shaking his head. “Sorry. That—”

Lydia glances down at her hands. “No. I don’t blame you for being mad. I’d be angry too.”

Scott leans back against the couch next to her, before looking over and trying to figure out what she’s thinking. Trying to read Lydia’s mind has never been an easy feat, especially not with five years of distance between them. Her chemo signals are a mess. Anxiety mixed with regret, but he knows she had good intentions.

“I didn’t want you to have to choose between your soulmate and your best friend. And then… things just went on a little too long.”

“I get it.” Scott reaches over and takes her hand gently. “But what do you want to do?”

“I…” Her voice trails off, before she turns to look at him again. “I never wanted it to be something that was forced. I never wanted the idea of forcing a soulmate on me, and I definitely don’t want to do the same to you.”

Scott nods. “So what does that mean?” He doesn’t mean to sound dense, but he needs her to say it plainly. He doesn’t want to be caught reading between the lines and misinterpreting things.

“It means that I’m here for the summer.” She tips her head to the side. “I didn’t take any summer classes this year, because who knows how long this will take to shake out, so all I have to do is work on my thesis. But if you wanted to spend time together, to… better figure out this, I’ll be here.”

Part of him wants that. He’s missed having Lydia as a friend, regardless of the pretense. But he also knows that if they do this, there’s one other bridge they’ll need to cross.

“I have to tell Stiles.”

Lydia swallows hard as she takes that information. “Then if you do that, I’ll talk to Allison. It’ll all be out in the open.”

“Allison didn’t know either?”

“I was never really sure how to tell her, and then she was so busy with the FBI.”

“So you just kept this to yourself the whole time?”

Lydia shakes her head. “Mason figured it out, before I left, but he promised me he’d keep it a secret. And I told Jackson, but that’s because he caught me trying to fix his wardrobe.”

Scott laughs. “Go figure clothes would be your Achilles heel.”

“I really do hate being that predictable.” Lydia shakes her head before reaching over and taking his hand. “And I really am sorry. I’d get it if you would want to keep your distance for a bit.”

He squeezes her hand in return before leaning closer and pressing a kiss to her temple. “I really get it. It’s a big decision, and the idea of some flow of the universe deciding who you’re supposed to be with at eighteen is… a lot. I get I was a big romantic when I was a kid, but…”

“You were a kid,” Lydia nods, shifting to rest her head against his shoulder. The closeness is nice, and he tips his nose to the side to catch the familiar scents of Lydia, her signature perfume matching the floral scents of her shampoo. It feels like something’s set right again, and he knows, regardless of what happens with Stiles, this is where he’s supposed to be.

He just needs to get past the hurdle of actually telling Stiles.

* * * * *

The next day, as promised, Scott meets Stiles at their favorite booth at the dinner. His fingers tap restlessly against the table, unable to get rid of the nervous energy. He can’t say for sure whether this conversation is going to go well, but he knows that in true Scott fashion, he’s going to spit it out as fast as humanly possible. He watches as the Jeep pulls up into the parking lot, anticipation bubbling in his stomach and Stiles honks the horn and gives him a wave in response.

Scott waves back, hoping that he doesn’t look like he’s grimacing.

Minutes later, Stiles is sliding into the booth across from him, and before he can even say hello, Scott blurts out:

“Lydia’s my soulmate.”

Stiles, for once in his life, is speechless. His mouth gapes for a full minute before Stiles closes his eyes. “Sorry. Run that by me again?”

“Lydia is my soulmate.” He rubs a hand against the back of his neck. “I found out yesterday.”

Stiles frowns before shaking his head. “That makes no sense. We spent literally all of our time in high school together. How could you not have—” As he talks, his brain catches up with doing the timeline math. “She left before your turned eighteen.”

“Yeah.”

“So she knew, and she didn’t tell you?”

“Yep.”

“That’s… pretty messed up.”

“Yeah.”

Stiles falls silent as the server comes by to take their order and waits until she disappears again. Scott can tell just by looking at him that Scott’s confession has soured his appetite, but after rubbing the back of his neck, he shakes his head. “Man, I guess I always thought it was going to be Allison.”

“Dude, you knew it wasn’t.”

“Things can change.” Stiles sets his jaw as he shakes his head. “I mean, nothing is set in stone, even with soulmates.”

“Are you okay, man?” Scott knows he is the one dropping a big bomb here that he really needs to talk to his best friend about, but he can’t imagine that this is easy for Stiles to hear either.

It takes a second, but eventually Stiles blinks and returns to the table. “No, I am. I’m fine. Lydia and I were a long time ago.”

“A long time ago, but you loved her for a long time too.”

“And then I screwed it all up by getting bent out of shape that I wasn’t immediately her guy. And I probably didn’t make it any easier for her to tell you this.” Stiles then tips his head to the side, considering. “Do you want to be her guy?”

Scott doesn’t have an answer to that. He leans back into the booth, as he tries to put the words into motion. “It’s been really weird, with her being gone. It always felt like something was missing. But we’ve barely even talked about it. I haven’t even kissed her yet.”

“You guys made out in the coach’s office when we were sixteen.”

“That doesn’t count.” They were different people then, and they weren’t doing it for the right reasons. “I haven’t really kissed her.”

“Do you want to?”

“Kinda?” He smiles softly. “But I couldn’t do anything without telling you first.”

Stiles nods, “Well, you’ve told me. And I’ll get over it. Because if my two favorite people can make each other that happy, then I’m going to be happy for them. There’s enough awful shit happening in the world to get petty over this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Stiles smiles as he claps his hand on his shoulder. “I’m totally best man at your wedding though. Don’t forget. We made a pact when we were ten.”

“Oh my god, I haven’t even kissed her yet.”

“Dude, you can’t back out of it now. I have already planned your bachelor party.”

“Too late, I’ve already asked Derek.”

Stiles chokes on his food. “Derek? Dude, that party will be nothing but old books and uncomfortable silence, and you know it! Does Derek even know how to have fun?”

“At least I’ll wake up in the morning and know where my pants are. Nor will I wind up in Mexico and not know how I got there.”

“Oh my god, that happened one time—”

Scott can’t help but smile in response as their meals arrive. Everything else might still be really confusing, but at least Stiles will always be Stiles.

* * * * *

Two days after his dinner with Stiles, he asks Lydia to meet him at the clinic after work. By the time she arrives, he’s fully got his head wrapped around the idea that yes, he has a soulmate, and yes, it’s not the person he expected, but at least it’s not a total stranger. At least that falls in the positive column. And he can’t help but think how much steadier he’s felt in the past few days with Lydia around.

The bells on the front door ring softly, and he smiles before making his way to the front. When he sees Lydia standing there, he flashes her a smile. “Hey, c’mon back. Ten more minutes and I’m all yours.”

“Sounds good.” She makes her way in and smiles as she looks around. “I’m glad you stayed with the clinic. It really suits you.”

“Yeah. It’s always been my favorite place to be.”

After placing his patient back in the kennel for the night, he washes his hands thoroughly before moving closer to her. There’s no point in dragging things out, and he doesn’t want to leave her with the anticipation he knows she’s been struggling with.

“I want to try this.”

Lydia’s face lights up in response, and relief follows. He can see her shoulders relax as the tension in them falls away. “Really?”

“Really.” He takes another step closer. “But there’s one thing I want to do first.”

He doesn’t give her a chance to respond, before dipping his head and kissing her, but she doesn’t resist. She meets him halfway, pushing up on her toes so that he can more easily get an arm around her waist. One hand smooths over the small of her back, and he can hear her heartbeat pick up speed, as well as a fresh bloom of want in her scent. It feels right, which is the last piece of the puzzle he needs to be all in.

When the kiss finally breaks, he rests his forehead against hers with a soft sigh.

“Good?”

Lydia smiles. “Yeah. Really good. Would definitely be okay with doing that again.”

Scott is about to oblige her when the air shifts around them, and his head perks up. Lydia frowns as she tries to follow his eyes over her shoulder. “What? What is it?”

“Something’s wrong.”

The door to the clinic bangs open, and Scott immediately puts himself between Lydia and the door as he makes his way out into the front. When he arrives, he sees two women—a tall fellow alpha with long dark hair and an intense stare, supporting a blond woman visibly bleeding from one side.

“Scott McCall?” the alpha asks, and he nods.

“Yeah. Can I help you?”

The blond looks up, and she doesn’t look good. Still, there’s an uncomfortable, unsettling edge to her stare that makes Scott tense. “I need to find Peter Hale.”

But that’s all she gets out before she passes out in her friend’s arms.

[Next.]

I ~ peter/freya ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 1,953

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

The last thing in the world Peter wants is a soulmate.

He barely knows how to handle the emotional responsibility of having a daughter. He’s not interested in having a partner. Any energy he has in being a functional person goes to Malia, and it’s for the best. However, the world doesn’t always work that way, and Fate finds him eventually.

His improved relationship with Malia doesn’t mean that Malia wants him around all the time, especially since he seems to rub her new boyfriend the wrong way. Jeremy and his little crew of supernatural, wary friend in a small, idyllic little town reminds him of Scott in his little pack. Shockingly, just like Scott, they’re not that fond of the “if it wants to kill you, kill it first” approach to things, which means receptions for Peter in town often are frosty.

Still, he never wanders far when his daughter sends him away. This time, he’s spending a few weeks in New Orleans, waiting for Malia and Jeremy to cool down before he slides back in again. He’s striding through the French Quarter, contemplating popping in on Cora and Isaac in New York, when a woman passing by him catches his eye. Though, not so much her, but the opalescent shine of the necklace hanging around her neck.

By the time he realizes what’s happening, it’s already too late. Her scent is laden with magic, blood and death, and if he wasn’t so irritated at the idea of having a soulmate, there could have been room for intrigue.

He stalks in the opposite direction, not wanting to deal with it. If he doesn’t engage, maybe it will go away.

It doesn’t go away.

Two days later, Peter’s life is in vivid color, in a way it hasn’t been in decades.

He doesn’t know how to feel about it. On the one hand, he appreciates his ability to have his senses returned to what they once were, to appreciate the vibrance and the color of the city in its fullest. But that woman lingers in the back of his mind, his reason for this gift but not something he wants or needs at the moment. He doesn’t intend to go looking for her, but as he wanders into Rosseau’s, he finds her anyway.

She’s slender, with blond hair and a dark energy to her that draws him in closer. He resists trying to find a table on the opposite side of the room when she speaks and her smoky voice stops him in his tracks.

“Running from me again, are you?”

He turns to face her, unable to resist a challenge, even if it’s the last thing he wants to deal with. He keeps his posture casual, not wanting her to see the way she’s getting under his skin.

“Sorry. And you are?”

“Freya Mikaelson.” She says with a smile. “But you would have known that if you had stayed on the street earlier.”

Mikaelson also gets his attention. His eyebrows climb, because of course. Of course his soulmate would be a Mikaelson. “Peter Hale,” he offers, as a compromise, and that seems to catch her attention as well.

“I’ve heard of you.” She smiles before reaching for a bottle of whiskey behind the bar. “Why don’t we have a drink?”

Peter tips his head to the side. “Look, I don’t know what you’re expecting…”

“I’m not expecting anything. But we’re clearly connected somehow. We might as well… negotiate something that works for both of us?”

Pragmatic. Peter likes her already. He still has no interest in getting any closer, but he could at least have a drink with her. What could it hurt?

* * * * *

Peter winds up staying in New Orleans much longer than he expected. He also winds up in Freya’s bed much faster than expected. As much as he tries to resist the idea that anyone is specifically built for him, he enjoys Freya’s company. He appreciates her ruthlessness as much as she doesn’t seem to mind his moments of sociopathy. In New Orleans, there’s no quibbling over morals or doing the right thing. It’s kill and be killed.

Honestly, Peter should have settled down here sooner.

Freya’s brothers are less than fond of Peter’s continued presence, but they seem to care more about their sister’s happiness than the irritation that he exists. It’s likely his only saving grace. But he and Hayley get along like a house on fire, and Hope… well, Hope is something unexpected.

The Mikaelsons work so hard to preserve her innocence. To let Hope be a little girl, even if the world is nothing but darkness and blood around her. It’s a valiant effort, to be sure, but Peter isn’t sure there’s much they can do for that. The supernatural world is bloody. The longer you try to keep your innocence, the harder it is to survive. She’s a child, which makes it easy to get under his walls even more than Freya does.

Early that morning, Freya’s sleepy hands trail over his chest as he slips from bed and gets dressed. As much as he’s growing fond of spending time with her, he needs to make some arrangements today. Find out if Derek, Cora, or Malia need him anywhere. Remind them he’s still present, even if he’s otherwise distracted. After he’s dress, his nose twitches at the scent of fresh baked goods, following it to a table overloaded with beignets. Sitting in the center is a brightly smiling Hope.

“What is all of this?” Peter asks, smirking as he leans against the doorframe.

“It’s my birthday.” She admits as she takes a big bite of her own pastry. “Want some beignets?”

“I would love some.” Might as well have breakfast. “And happy birthday. Are you going to have a party with your friends?”

“Mom said we’re going to have cake and presents later. But I don’t really have a lot of friends.”

“Oh no,” he tips his head to the side. “Clearly their loss.”

Hope smiles up at him, brushing the powdered sugar from her fingers. Then a coy expression crosses her face. “Are you going to be there with Aunt Freya?”

When she tries to play matchmaker, she gets less cute.

“We’ll see. I have some—” Before he can finish the sentence, his head snaps towards an odd sound coming from the courtyard. Hope’s brow furrows.

“Did you hear something?”

“Maybe.” Peter gets to his feet and inches towards the door. “Stay here.”

Slowly he edges into the courtyard, eyes tracing the uncomfortable silence. Footsteps sound from the street, and with them comes men in full tactical gear, turning to point their guns at the only werewolf they can see.

“Peter Hale?”

His eyes glow bright blue, because nothing about this feels right. “Depends who wants to know.”

He sees the finger of the front man squeeze on the trigger of his rifle, but before he can, footsteps come from the stairs, bearing Freya and Klaus.

“Peter?”

All hell breaks loose in that moment. The bullet hits Peter hard, pushing him backwards into the dining room. He hears a scream and feels a secondary flash of pain that he knows has to be Freya. A roar follows that has to be Klaus, which leads to screams from the men who ambushed them. Every instinct in him wants to go to Freya, to find her and make sure she’s safe, but he knows Klaus will protect her.

He needs to protect the one who can’t protect herself.

He dashes back into the dining room, scooping up the eight-year-old into his arms and dashing through to the back of the house.

“Peter, where are we going?”

“To find somewhere safe for you, sweetheart.”

“Find the tribrid!” sounds as he fights his way through the house, and he doesn’t look back. Out into the street, towards his car, and sliding Hope into the back seat.

“Buckle up, alright? We’re getting out of here.”

He slides into the driver’s seat and starts the car, but as he pulls away from the curb, there’s a shout from the back and the crack of the back window shattering. Hope screams, and Peter hits the gas, zooming out into the streets.

He can’t take her to anywhere in the French Quarter. He can’t take her to the bayou. If they knew enough to hit the Abattoir directly, they likely know all the places Hope could hide here. He’s going to need to be innovative.

He hits the call button on his steering wheel. “Call Malia.”

It rings twice before she answers. “Peter?”

“Are any of your Virginia friends anywhere near New Orleans?”

“I’ll ask, why?”

“I need their help. Tell them to meet me at St. James Infirmary.” He hangs up after that, before glancing back over his shoulder at Hope. “You alright, sweetheart?”

“Do you think my dad’s okay?”

Peter looks at her in the rearview mirror. He doesn’t want to lie to her, but he knows one thing. “If there’s one person I would count on to survive? It’s your dad.”

Freya is the one he’s worried about.

* * * * *

He makes the handoff to Tyler and Elena, and then heads back into town. The Triad agents catch him as he’s coming into the city, and decide to torture him for information on where to find Hope. He loses track of how long he’s in transit, with periodic stops for further torture, but eventually he’s tossed away into a cage in a building, and his back hits the wall with a groan. A shuffling sound happens to his left, and he hears a familiar voice.

“Peter?”

He turns, and Klaus’s face comes out of the shadows. He looks as much of a mess as Peter is. “Got you too, huh?”

“Where’s Hope?”

“She’s safe.” Peter hopes he takes that as an answer, because he doesn’t doubt that the guards are listening. “Freya?”

Klaus’ face falls, and he shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

His vision is still in color. He has to take comfort in that. He barely gets any chance to recover before they’re pulling him out of the cell again and attaching him to the rig. The torture continues, repeatedly, for hours, but Peter gives them nothing.

Maybe he’s just stubborn. Or maybe he gives a shit after all.

After one of their torture sessions, they drag him out of the torture room and into another area. A wide, open cave with a large tar pit in the middle of the room. Peter stares at it, confused, before looking back at the rest of them.

“What’s this? Taking waterboarding to a new level?”

“Oh, no. We decided that we have another option. And it involves taking you off the chessboard.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “Killing me already?”

“Worse.” The leader smiles. “I’m going to make them think you never existed.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

The leader points to the tar. “Anything that goes into this pit gets erased from memory. As far as your friends and family will know, you never existed. It’s very convenient, especially for us, because even if you won’t tell us where the Tribrid is, with you gone, they’ll do not need to keep her in hiding. And then they’ll never see us coming.”

Peter struggles, pushing back against the surrounding goons, but there are too many of them and not enough of him. The leader rears back, plants a kick to the middle of his gut, and sends him plummeting into the tar.

As the thick liquid closes in around him, he can’t help but hope they remember him.

[Next.]

J ~ derek/caroline ~ tvdverse/teen wolf ~ 1,734

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

“So. Derek.”

Caroline shakes her head as she and Elena retreat to the kitchen. Caroline scrounges up food for their guests out of what’s left in the kitchen, while Elena fixes the drinks. “How you and Tyler survive out here is beyond me when neither of you are good in the kitchen.”

“Tyler’s actually getting better. And worst-case scenario, I can manage a crock pot. That’s not what I asked you.”

Caroline flashes her best friend a look at that, because she’s obviously trying to derail the conversation she’s not ready to have yet. There are way more important things than her potential soulmate that she doesn’t know that well yet.

“You know he’s a werewolf, right?”

“And we soundproofed the kitchen. Keep trying to dodge the question.”

Caroline purses her lips a bit before shrugging. “He’s Derek. I don’t really know him that well yet.”

“He’s hot.” Elena leans forward to watch her friend as she continues moving frantically around the kitchen. “And he’s a werewolf, so that is your type.”

“Why are you the worst?” Caroline throws back half-heartedly, and Elena flashes her a smile, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Look, I just want you to be happy, okay? And he seems… nice.”

“He is, I guess.” She’s known him all of five minutes. “Oh, but his friend is still not convinced that I won’t murder his pack in their sleep yet, so until then, ix-nay on the ampire-vay.”

Elena blinks. “Is that a problem he often has?”

“Apparently.”

“Well, I will do my best to keep my mouth shut. And I’ll make sure Ty knows too.” She gives Caroline’s shoulder a squeeze before gathering the drinks and expecting Caroline to follow with the food. “Let’s get this show on the road.

* * * * *

Drinks get passed around the table as Hayley fills everyone in on what’s happened so far, and Stiles and Derek pick at the food. The bomb that Hope remembers Peter hasn’t lost its sting yet, and they still have no idea how.

“Maybe it’s some kind of spell?” Hayley offers, with Freya on speakerphone in the middle of the room.

“Mmm, probably not. It would take someone of immense power and skill to erase the memories from this many people, especially not in the same space. And to eradicate them so thoroughly? No. Not a spell. This is something else.”

“Also, why would Hope be the only one immune?” Elena points out. “I know she’s special, but… it seems like a lot.”

“I should come to you.”

“Are you sure?” Hayley asks, letting her hands rest on the back of a chair. “We can take it from here.”

“No. Klaus is also missing and odds are that the people who made Peter disappear from our memories and who attacked us at the Abattoir are the same. Which means they may have Klaus, and we can’t let them do to him what they did to Peter.”

“Can they even do that?” Elena’s eyes run wide with horror. “He’s tied to so many things—”

“I don’t know. But I don’t want to find out.” Freya runs a hand through her hair. “I’ll text you the flight information when I have it. We can work from there.” With that, she hangs up, and the entire room takes a breath.

“Well. I guess you guys are going to be staying here tonight.” Tyler rubs his hands together as he moves past Elena. “I’ll go make sure the guest rooms are ready.”

“I’ll help,” Elena nods.

Caroline catches Tyler’s hand meeting the small of Elena’s back and she fights the minor flare of jealousy that still lingers when she sees them. It’s not that she wants Tyler back—their story together is well and truly finished—but she can’t help but want what they have, the idea of a soulmate that is so attuned to their needs. A partner.

Technically, she has one. But she also doesn’t know him, so does she really have him? Eventually Hayley takes Hope upstairs to put her to bed and Stiles excuses himself to give an update to someone named Allison, leaving her and Derek alone in the dining room. He’s watching her carefully, like she’s a puzzle he’s still trying to figure out.

“So, you and Tyler.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Did you do that weird werewolf thing where you read my pheromones to figure out what I’m feeling? Because I have to say, that’s very rude.”

His eyebrows go up. “I can also read body language. But yeah, I also know what jealousy smells like.”

“Oh.” Her eyes duck a bit. “It was a long time ago. Like high school long time ago. But he was my first big epic love and when it didn’t work, I was pretty crushed.” She shakes her head. “I don’t want him back, if that’s what you’re worried about. He and Elena are happy. I just want—”

“What they have.” Derek nods in agreement. “Yeah, I get it.”

Caroline nods as he moves closer to lean against the wall next to her. “And I know what we’re… supposed to be. But it’s hard to feel that right now.”

“Yeah. I don’t really know you.”

“And I don’t know you. Plus, you haven’t even kissed me yet.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “That’s important?”

“Yes, it’s important. You are incredibly attractive, but there could be zero kiss chemistry.”

Derek snorts, before turning to face her more. “I mean, I’d like to have faith in my kissing ability. I’ve had no complaints.”

“So I should trust your ego?”

“We could always just get it out of the way.”

“Oh, so romantic.” She shakes her head as she turns to face him more. “No. If you’re going to kiss me, I want you really to kiss me. Kiss me because you want to, because… there’s nothing else in the world you want more.”

Derek nods, and she watches as his eyes fall to her lips, then back up to meet her gaze again. “Only then?”

She shrugs. “I may be a vampire, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a romantic.”

“I’m sorry, you’re a what?”

Caroline’s eyes close and she rubs her eyes with one hand. “Hi, Stiles.”

Stiles moves into the room and wedges himself between the two of them, using his body weight to force them apart. “You knew she was a vampire?”

“She told me the night we met.” Derek looks equally annoyed by the imposition.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t think it was your business.”

Stiles rolls his eyes before pushing him back so there’s even more space between the two. “No. Absolutely not. You will not blood-suck out his soul and then turn around and murder the rest of us. Not happening.”

“What the fuck?”

Caroline turns and this time Tyler joins the party, likely coming down to tell them that the rooms are ready. She buries her face in her hands because things are probably going to get worse. “Hi, Tyler.”

Thankfully, Tyler stays on topic. “I’m sorry, what did you accuse my friend of?”

Stiles holds up a finger in Tyler’s direction. “Look, you don’t understand the context—”

“I don’t care. You’re a guest in my house and that is my friend. So either you treat her with respect or you can drive out an hour to the nearest motel and spend the night there.” Stiles opens his mouth and Tyler cuts him off. “No, no buts. Yes or no?”

Stiles grumbles for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Good.” Tyler passes over the towels in his hands to Derek and Stiles before glaring them on their way. “Guest rooms are at the top of the stairs, to the right.”

As the two men slink off, Tyler reaches for Caroline’s glass, refills it, and waits until they’re out of earshot. As soon as the doors to the guest rooms close, Tyler’s stern expression softens into a smirk.

“Blood-suck out his soul?”

Caroline groans, burying her face in her hands. “Apparently Derek has a history of bad exes.”

Tyler nods slowly. “And that applies to you because…?”

“Derek is my soulmate.”

“Oh.” Tyler nods curiously, thinking back to the evening. “That explains a lot.”

“It does?”

“Oh yeah. Elena’s been wearing her ‘I’ve got a secret face’ since you got here.”

Caroline laughs. “She actually keeps secrets from you?”

“Apparently she learned from when we’re dating that when I know things I’m not supposed to know, other people learn them too. Apparently best friend secrets still rank above soulmates.”

“Good that she learned from my mistakes,” Caroline sighs. “So yeah. Stiles is paranoid that I’m going to murder them all, because apparently that’s what Derek’s partners do, so we were not mentioning the whole vampire thing until he got used to me.”

Tyler nods. “I take it that didn’t go well.”

“No, blood-suck out his soul kind of covered that one.”

Tyler smirks. “Well, if it’s worth anything, I’ll vouch for you.”

“I appreciate that,” Caroline sighs. She downs half of her drink before Tyler continues.

“But what do you think of him?”

Caroline shrugs. “So far? He seems nice enough. Complicated, sure, but who isn’t complicated these days.” She swirls her drink briefly, before tipping her head up to look at him. “I’m worried that I’m not what he expected.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean… soulmates usually come with families, right? Kids. I can’t give him that.”

“You know there are ways to have kids without having kids, right?” Tyler raises an eyebrow at her. “Adoption is a thing.”

“Yeah, I know. And this is the last thing I should worry about when we barely know each other.”

Tyler drapes an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer and gives her a small squeeze. “You deserve to be happy, Caroline.” He turns and presses a kiss to her temple. “Don’t worry about the what ifs and complications right now. Just try to be happy.”

From anyone else, she might not have believed them. But coming from Tyler, it meant something. She nods and lets her head rest against his shoulder as she does. “Thank you.”

He nods, giving her one last squeeze before letting her go. “Get some sleep. Freya gets in tomorrow morning and it’s going to be a long day.”

[Next.]

K ~ peter/freya (pt. 5) ~ teen wolf/vampire diaries universe ~ 1,195

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous]

In some ways, it’s kindness that Peter is the one with the most complete set of memories.

Not for anyone else, of course. But it is for Peter.

See, he knows Derek will spill the beans to someone. He doesn’t have to leave Mystic Falls to get what he needs, he just needs to wait. So after dropping off Derek at the school, he immediately leaves and does some investigating of his own. It doesn’t take long to figure out that Stiles, his niece and her curly-haired soulmate are in town, and where they’re staying. So when the call inevitably comes in, he’s perfectly poised to listen. Why do all the heavy lifting when someone else could do the work for him?

“Landon Kirby,” Stiles enunciates as he stops at a coffee cart. “K-I-R-B-Y, I think.”

“The only Landon Kirby I’ve got is a seven-year-old kid.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. We think someone might try to kidnap him.”

“Psychopaths these days.”

“Tell me about it.”

Peter rolls his eyes from his position behind a tree before making his own note as the agent on the other end of the line rambles off the address. A foster home, it seems. Perfect. A child no one will miss makes his life even easier.

He tucks the napkin with the address into his pocket and is about to leave when Stiles makes another call. “Hey, Malia. It’s me.”

Peter freezes, because that part he didn’t see coming. He should have known that his daughter would be close, given that her soulmate was from Mystic Falls. He also should have known that someone would think to use her against him. Closing his hand around the paper, he takes a step back and tries not to listen, though he can’t help but scrounge for bits of his daughter’s voice.

“Yeah?”

“You in Mystic Falls? I need your help with something.”

“Good something or going to kill me something?”

“This is easier to explain in person. Are you in town or not?”

She groans. “Fine. I’m at the Gilbert House. Bring coffee.”

Stiles agrees to the terms and hangs up, but by the time he exits the store, Peter is already in his car, preparing to hit the road. Malia will help Stiles, but convincing her will take time. Which means Peter will have time to strike first.

He just hopes it’s enough time to get Landon and go.

* * * * *

There’s something about this kid that smells … off. A bit like Parrish, honestly, but not quite the same. He has a curly mop of dark hair and sticks close to a small black boy. They remind him a bit of Scott and Stiles. This other boy is going to be the complication, but first he has to get in the door.

Fortunately, it doesn’t take long for him to find an opportunity.

The foster home he’s in is clearly below board. Dirty, almost hoardish in style, and the foster father has a mean temper. It doesn’t take much for him to clean up—fortunately his credit cards still work, even if the rest of the world doesn’t think he exists—and head up to the door, doing his best to play the part of the overworked social worker.

“There wasn’t an inspection scheduled today,” the foster father protests, alcohol thick on his breath.

“That’s why it’s a surprise inspection,” Peter replies, striding into the room and watching the other man shirk away. A sign he’s not a true predator, just pretending, picking on those smaller and weaker than he is. For all of Peter’s flaws, at least he knows where to aim his sociopathic tendencies. “I’ll need to speak with both the children.”

“Fine, whatever.” He waves a hand, gesturing to the back rooms. Peter strides his way through, making notes on his fake clipboard as he goes. Might as well play the part. He turns into the bedroom, barely bigger than a closet. A pair of beds are pressed up against the far wall, and the space is clean—or at least as clean as the boys can make it. The two seven-year-olds stare back at him, eyes wide. The black boy straightens, almost as though he recognizes that something isn’t quite right with Peter.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Peter.”

“You’re not our usual social worker,” Landon points out, and Peter shakes his head.

“No, I’m not. I’m one that they send in special situations.” He glances down at his clipboard as though he’s looking at a file. “Now you are Landon and—”

“Rafael,” the boy fills in, unprompted. Children are far too trusting. “Are you here to take us to a new home?”

“Us” wasn’t the plan. “Us” was only supposed to be “Landon” but he’s sensing that this would be a problem, so he tries to play along. “That’s what we’re trying to assess,” he nods. “Can you both tell me about how you feel with your current foster parent?”

The two boys glance at each other, having a silent conversation, likely about whether they can trust Peter. But then Raf shifts, lifting his shirt so that Peter can see the bruises on his ribs that clearly came not from unfortunate childhood accidents.

And whether he likes to admit it, there are some parts of him that have softened in the time since his resurrection. Some things, even he can’t ignore.

“How often does this happen?”

“Pretty often,” Landon nods.

“Both of you?”

“He used to. I just piss him off more.”

Likely intentionally, if the bond of these boys is anything to go by. He nods once and gestures to the rest of the room. “Pack your things. We’re leaving now.”

The boys don’t question him.

As he makes his way out to inform this poor excuse for a parent that he’s relieving him of his charges, the man is clearly not happy about the news. But Peter is quick to put him in his place with a few well-placed claws to his throat. Claws that are retracted by the time the boys appear with their personal effects, ready to leave.

He loads them all into the car close to the house as a black SUV appears in the opposite direction. Peter slides into the driver’s seat, behind the tinted windows and watches as Stiles emerges from the driver’s side, followed by Jeremy, and then Malia. She tips her head up at the house as she approaches, nose likely wrinkling at the waves of panic and pain rolling off it.

“Who’s that?” Landon asks.

“That would be the FBI.”

“Do we have to stick around to talk to them?”

“No,” Peter nods with a small smile. “I’ve already given them your statements.”

Rafael is giving him that suspicious look again, like he doesn’t quite think Peter’s telling the truth, but before he can question it, Peter throws the car into drive.

“Well. Let’s get you boys home.”

Only, they’re not going home. Not at all. And for the first time all day, he might be feeling a little guilty about that.

[Next]

L ~ freya/peter ~ tvdverse/teen wolf ~ 2,135

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous]

Freya comes to in darkness.

She doesn’t think she’s alone, but she certainly feels as though she’s alone. The suffocating blackness that surrounds her doesn’t allow for her to see too far ahead of her. She reaches a hand out in front of her, swiping through the darkness, but she doesn’t come up against any walls or people, so she takes a tentative step forward. This process she continues, putting one foot in front of the other for as long as she can.

The darkness also makes her feel sluggish. Her body moves when she commands it, but she can tell that it isolates, controls, contains. Whatever this is, whatever magic controls it, it’s supposed to be a prison.

Eventually she gets to where she doesn’t check where she’s going anymore, just walking to see how far her feet will carry her. There are no walls, no people, nothing to mark time or location. She knows this place is a recipe for insanity if she isn’t careful, but she does her best to preserve her magic, hold on tight to the idea that she will escape this place.

Whatever it takes.

She’s also noticing that she doesn’t need to eat or sleep, so… at least there’s that.

* * * * *

She doesn’t know how much time is passed before she comes across another person. To be more accurate, a hand reaches out of the darkness to grab hold of her, pulling her into a pocket of even more darkness, but still, it’s another person all the same. Balling her hands into fists, she attempts to struggle against the hold, but that comes to a stop when the person says her name.

“Freya, stop.”

She turns to look in the face's direction, trying to put a name to it, but her mind is an unfortunate blank. He’s taller than her, with short dark hair and a matching beard. His face seems to be set on a permanent frown. Freya tips her head to the side, trying to put two and two together, and the person holding her swears.

“She doesn’t remember.”

“Great.”

A second voice joins her, and another figure steps out of the darkness. This time, a woman with similar dark hair and a determined jawline, dressed in a sensible business suit and wearing an FBI Kevlar vest. Freya assumes she would remember someone in the FBI, or at least knowing them, but it appears it’s another trick of the mind in this pit.

“Believe me, I hate having my memory messed with as much as the rest of you,” Freya points out. “You must have fallen in before I did.”

“Must have.” The man lets her go. “Sorry for grabbing you like that. It seemed to be the only way to get your attention.”

“There’s something about this place,” Freya admits. “It wants to keep us all separate. Controlled.”

“Like we’re prisoners.”

Smart woman. Freya likes her already. “Do you think we could manage a round of introductions again? I hate to forget friends, but the pit is interfering.”

“Allison Argent,” the woman replies, placing a hand on her chest. That explains why Freya would fraternize with the FBI. “And Derek Hale.”

“Hale,” Freya turns to him with a frown. “Like Peter Hale?”

“Theoretically.” Derek sighs. “But he fell I ahead of all of us, so I don’t remember him. Just like you don’t remember us. We went with you to Atlanta to rescue Klaus, but got thrown into the pit in the process.”

“So the spell—whatever it is—that’s changing our memories doesn’t distinguish what side of the barrier we’re on. We don’t get our memories back just because we’re on the other side of the spell, and the ones being hidden. With every person thrown into the pit, it’s another repeat of the spell.”

“But your niece isn’t affected.” Allison crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Why is that?”

“That, I don’t know. But I would very much like to find out.” Freya glances back over her shoulder, trying to see if anyone else is coming out of the darkness, but so far it seems to be just them. She glances over at Derek. “If you’re a Hale, I’m assuming you’re a werewolf?”

Derek nods. “If you’re going to ask if I can track by scent, not someone who’s scent, I don’t remember.”

“How did you find me?”

“Luck, honestly. You just walked out of the fog.”

“Could you find us if we got lost again?”

“Hard to say for sure. Everything here is… muted.” Derek makes a face. “Sometimes it feels like every breath I take is clogging me up. Making me feel slow.”

Freya considers, before reaching up and cupping her hands gently on either side of his face. “May I?”

“May you what?”

Freya smiles softly. “I’m going to bind us together. See if I can enhance your senses for just us. That way we can stay together.”

Derek glances over at Allison, and she shrugs in return. “Worth a shot?”

“Just don’t… make my sinuses explode? Please?”

Freya laughs before shaking her head. “That’s a much more delicate process.”

She closes her eyes, chanting quietly to herself and feeling the magic settle over them. Derek rolls his shoulders, almost as though someone’s rubbing his fur the wrong way, but when she opens his eyes, he takes a deep breath.

“That’s better. It feels more like real life.”

Freya nods. “The way this place seems to consume magic, I can’t say how long it will last. But at least it will buy us some time to keep us together.”

“Good,” Allison nods. “Now what?”

“We find Peter Hale,” Freya states, determined. “And then we get the hell out of here.”

* * * * *

Despite the darkness swirling around them, trying to separate them, they stick together well—at least for a little while. Derek’s nose keeps them from wandering too far off from each other, or into something they might not want to encounter. Occasionally, they’ll even encounter other people, but nothing that lasts long. Some people seem to have been trapped down here for decades, centuries.

How long has this thing been active?

Eventually the failsafe of Derek’s nose fails, and before she can renew the spell, they’re separated, and the darkness swallows her again. She can feel panic rising in her chest as she calls out into the darkness for her unlikely companions:

“Derek? Allison!”

Nothing.

Her heartbeat thuds in her chest, and she takes a deep breath to calm herself. She found them once—she can find them again. She needs to focus. She needs to relax and breathe. She needs to —
Her thoughts break again as hands reach out, grabbing her by the hips and spinning her in closer. She throws up her fists to pound back, fight back against him, but the minute she meets his eyes, everything changes.

For one, they’re familiar. For another, they’re blue.

“You shouldn’t have come in after me,” he murmurs affectionately, like a secret between lovers rather than an assault. “But I’m glad you did.”

“Peter.” She wishes it didn’t sound so much like a question, like she wasn’t sure who she was talking to, even though she’s seen the driver’s license picture. She knows, intellectually, that this is Peter Hale. But that doesn’t explain the feeling of him talking to her like he knows her so much better than she knows him. Like she isn’t effectively a stranger to him.

How bizarre, but also comforting at the same time.

His head tips at the way she says it, almost as though he senses her uncertainty, and then steps back, revealing more of himself to her. He doesn’t let go of her fully, using the contact to keep her close and to avoid her slipping into the darkness again.

“Freya.” The word is a trap—she can tell that without remembering their relationship—and she doesn’t want to spring it. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Freya offers a half-hearted shrug. There’s no point of denying it. “I don’t. Whatever this pit is, it erases people from the collective memory.”

Peter nods, understanding. Of course it does. “They call it Malivore.”

Malivore. The name rings a bell, somewhere in the back of her mind, but she can’t put a finger on it right away, and that isn’t the issue. The bigger issue is the fully grown werewolf who’s slowly shutting down on her, and she needs to keep the connection between them open, even if she doesn’t understand it.

(Losing his arms around her already seems like the loss of so much more, and she’s so frustrated that she doesn’t know why.)

“We were putting together the pieces. Of who you are and why you were connected to all of us. I came here for you, Peter.”

“To plug the holes in your own memory,” Peter amends. “Not because of what I mean to you.”

There’s a weight to that difference, a disappointment she understands. The idea of being important to someone, having someone that understands you and losing that understanding can be powerful. Especially to someone who’s been burned too many times before. Possibly even literally.

She swallows hard. “I may not remember you, but Hope does.”

Peter turns back to her in a snap, first with wide eyes, before narrowing into focus. “Tyler and Elena, they kept her safe?”

Freya nods. “She still remembers you fully. No gaps, no misunderstandings. Her memory is not affected.”

“Because she’s the counteragent.” But he doesn’t intend to expand on that, it seems. He grabs her by the wrist, intending to keep her close and not lose her as he moves through the darkness. “Was that my nephew and the head of the Argent family I heard you calling after?”

“What does that mean? She’s the counteragent?”

“I don’t like explaining myself more than once.” Peter turns back to her. “Was it Derek and Allison or not?”

“Yes,” Freya nods, before turning and falling in step next to him. “I had cast a spell to enhance Derek’s senses to help track each other, but it must have worn off.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “Can you do the same to me?”

“Do you trust me to do that?” Freya asks. Considering how withholding he’s being, she’s surprised that he’s volunteering. At that, Peter’s face softens, and he takes a step in closer, closing the gap between them.

“Freya, I would trust you with far more than you realize.”

Freya doesn’t waste time pondering the implications of that statement. Instead, she reaches up, resting her hands on the side of his face gently and casting the same spell. Peter takes a deep breath, looking almost relieved at the restoration of his faculties. His hand moves down from her wrist to take her hand, holding it tightly in his.

“Stay close. I don’t want to lose you in the shuffle.”

Freya nods, and decides that for now, it’s better not to argue.

* * * * *

Freya isn’t sure how much time passes between finding Peter and finding Derek and Allison again, but the advantage of Peter taking the lead is that he already knew all their scents. He follows the line like a dowsing rod looking for water. Soon, out of the shadows comes the pair of them, holding onto each other’s hands like a lifeline.

Derek’s ears catch them first and he steps forward, putting himself in front of Allison, prepared to protect her from the danger. When the two of them come into view, he relaxes, but only slightly.

“You found him.”

“More like he found me,” Freya sighs. “He’s apprised of the situation, and he may know something about why Hope remembers and we don’t.”

Allison perks up at the opportunity for answers, turning to Peter with an expression that wars between curious and trusting. Probably because, given her own gaps, she doesn’t have the experience to contradict the fact that Peter is being helpful, but knowing that this man has also done terrible things.

It’s a hard balance to strike.

Peter also seems surprised, but he shrugs it off and speaks. “Hope is the loophole. Something she has is the means of destroying the pit. But I don’t know how or why—all I know is that the hunters want to neutralize her before she can come to that full potential.”

“So we need to get back up there and share this information before they find her.” Derek nods. “Fair enough. But how are we going to get out of here?”

Three pairs of eyes turn on her, and she sighs, looking back and forth between the three of them before shrugging. “I haven’t quite figured that one out yet.”

[Next]

M ~ cora/isaac ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 2,427

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

Because they’re Hales, and they each of the emotional maturity of a walnut, they all need to be smacked in the face with their soulmates. Cora, much to her chagrin, is no exception.

It’s especially annoying because although she’s a grown adult, fully capable of making her own choices, fate seems to just dump a world of color onto her, without warning and with no consideration that maybe the other person doesn’t want to be with her. Because he absolutely, one hundred percent did not. Especially when this person is Isaac Lahey.

It’s not that Cora doesn’t like Isaac. During her prior stay in Beacon Hills, he was… fine. Nothing super impressive, but cute enough in that teenage boy way and charming enough when he wanted to get her attention. But there was nothing about him that said fate, or destiny, or any other word that comes from a thing like having a soulmate.

But one day, she’s rounding a corner in New York City, late for her late night job tending bar at a dive downtown when she runs smack dab into a familiar scent, something that cloys in her nose as a reminder of both pack and something more all at the same time.

And when she steps back, there’s Isaac in all his technicolor glory—but now covered in twenty-five percent more coffee. Her coffee, to be more precise. She should apologize, as that’s what polite people do, or even greet him, like the old friend that he is, but all she can do is stare, and say his name like it’s almost a swear.

“Isaac!”

“Cora.”

He grins at her, but he doesn’t seem to share the stunned silence of suddenly discovering his soulmate. Confusion is the next emotion that wars over her features, trying to figure out why he isn’t saying anything, but then again, she isn’t saying anything either. All she can do is shake herself out of it, and try not to find herself dazed by the colors and vibrance that New York City has shoved back into her life.

“Long time no see.”

“Yeah, you too.” She shakes her head. “Scott didn’t mention you were in town.”

“Oh, you still talk to Scott?”

She shrugs. “He likes to keep tabs. Say that I’m basically pack, as though that counts for something when I’m three thousand miles away.”

“Well, given that most of the pack is so scattered, I guess it means something to Scott.” He glances down at the coffee covering him, and she shakes herself out of it.

“I am so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. You seemed like you were in a rush.”

“I was late for work.” She pauses briefly to toss her now empty coffee cup into one of the nearby public garbage cans, before looking back at him. “I could probably clean up your shirt, if you want to come with?”

“Do you work at a laundry mat?”

“A bar. But soda water cures a lot of ails, right?”

Isaac nods slowly. “Yeah, sure. That would be great.”

“Great,” Cora nods, before waving one hand. “Then follow me.”

* * * * *

Wednesday night is probably the easiest night to have a closing shift where the last thing you want to do is bartend. Only the regulars are coming in, and they usually come in early, looking to get in their requisite socialization for the day before returning to their apartments to be up for work the next morning. It also gives Cora and Isaac a chance to talk, as there’s not much for Cora to do to attend to customers.

“So, anything interesting beyond Sunny’s.” He gestures to the dive around them and Cora shrugs.

“Mostly just keeping it moving. Occasionally check in with Peter or Derek or Malia. Derek was just through the city a couple of weeks ago.”

“Huh. Guess we just missed each other.” He tips his head to look around. “Have you been working here long?”

“About six months.” She shrugs. “It’s something to do, and bartending is an easy gig to pick up when you move around a lot.”

“How much longer are you thinking of staying?”

She shrugs. “However long it takes for me to get bored.”

“That’s a boring way to live. Then again, I guess there’s nothing here to keep you grounded. No friends, boyfriend, girlfriend?” He pauses, before tipping his head to the side curiously. “No soulmate?”

It’s almost as though he says it to get under her skin, and for a moment, she wonders if he’s experiencing the same things she is. Her eyes narrow, waiting for some kind of teasing smirk to let her in on the joke, but from what she can tell, the question seems like an earnest one.

“No. No soulmate.”

“Maybe you haven’t found your soulmate because you don’t stick around anywhere long enough?”

She grit her teeth before attempting to deflect. “What about you? Do you have a soulmate hidden somewhere?” She dials her focus down to the man in front of her, drowning out everything else. His breathing, heart rate, chemo signals, all of it remains normal. Not even the slightest uptick when he responds.

“No. Not for me either.”

There’s a frustration that builds under her skin at the idea that he might be fucking with her, and has gotten too good at avoiding werewolf detection. But she also doesn’t know why Isaac would have any reason to lie. It’s not as though they don’t know each other, or know each other too well. There’s a civil adult conversation they could have about the situation, and that would be it.

Then there’s a feeling of slight dread that maybe Isaac isn’t the person who brought her world into color. Maybe it was someone else she crossed paths with on the street that night, and running into Isaac provided too much of a distraction for her to get the actual message.

It had to be a mistake.

Pushing the thought out of her mind, she refills his beer. “If you’re going to be in town for a while, we could hang out? Give each other the excuse of having an actual friend to stick around?”

He grins at her before leaning closer. “Are you saying you want to be my friend, Cora Hale?”

She snorts. “I’m saying that of the people around, you’re my least worst option.”

Isaac laughs. “From you? I’ll take it.”

* * * * *

She never finds the right person on the sidewalk that night. No one comes back to her route, looking for the short brunette woman who may be their soulmate. It’s all just normal, day in and day out, except the color in her vision never fades, and now Isaac’s in her life. She doesn’t know what any of it means. There’s no instruction manual for managing a soulmate, no GPS system designed to help you find yours. All Cora has is this feeling in her gut that it can’t be Isaac.

Yet as time goes on, there comes a point when there’s a part of her that wants it to be.

She doesn’t know when she falls in love with him—possibly because falling in love is an incredibly foreign concept and she wouldn’t know the signs if it smacked her in the face. Sure, she’d been with people before, dated, had sex, but none of her previous partners have ever created the coiling feeling in her gut that Isaac did. How she feels warm when he’s close. Her stomach flutters when he touches her in any way that might come off as intimate. And all of those warm feelings fade to a cold, sinking feeling in her gut when he shows an interest in someone else.

But she can’t be with him. She shouldn’t waste her time. He’s clearly not her soulmate. He would have said something.

That all flies out the window when Monroe finds them.

She’s working a late night at Sunny’s, and he’s lingering at the bar, waiting for her to close up after a long day at his museum job. As he’s working his way through a basket of fries, a scent drifts through the air that freezes Cora in her spot.

“What is it?” Isaac asks, suddenly on alert.

“Smoke.”

All hell breaks loose soon after. Fire bursts from the kitchen, and Cora freezes, unable to process what to do as she’s brought back to the same house her family died in all those years ago. Hunters follow soon after, and Isaac takes two bullets, snapping her out of her reverie and into action. She charges them quickly, using their guns against them, before grabbing Isaac and taking off out the back door. More hunters are there to greet them, but they make quick work of the group, finding their way to the subway and getting on the train that’s ready and waiting in the station.

It's late enough that the cars are mostly empty, and they’re able to ride the line in circles until it’s determined safe to go back to the apartment they’re sharing. Cora’s able to assess his wounds in that time—no wolfsbane, just lead, thank god. It could have been so much worse, and when they return to the safety of their apartment, that’s when the panic fully sets in.

“Cora?” The way he says her name is gentle, almost as though he’s afraid if he says it too strongly, she might shatter in his hands. “You okay?”

“No,” she snaps. “I’m really not. They could have killed you.”

“So could you,” he points out, before taking her hands and resting them against his chest. “But it’s okay. We’re okay.”

She shakes her head, taking a deep, shaky breath as she tries to keep her tears at bay. “No, you don’t understand.”

“Then tell me.”

Telling the truth about how she feels has never been her strongest suit. She lets him keep her hands there, trying to stay focused and dig up the words that she’s been fighting for so long to bury. “I can’t lose you. Not like that. Not like the way I lost my mom.”

“In the fire,” he points out. “But why me?”

“Because—because, I—”

She can’t find the words. All of it garbles in her mouth and in the end, the only thing she can do is lean in and kiss him firmly. And while it surprised him at first, eventually he responds. His hands slide down to find her waist, pulling her closer. Her arms wind around his neck. Everything is perfect until —
“Wait. Wait. We can’t.”

Isaac makes a noise of frustration before looking back at her. “Why the hell not?”

“Because you’re not my soulmate.”

“You said you didn’t have one.”

“Because I don’t know who they are!” She slumps down onto the couch. “I started seeing in color the night you got to town. It must have been someone I saw on the street, but I never figured out who they were.”

Isaac tips his head to the side, brow furrowing. “Or maybe it’s me.”

Her head snaps up at him. “It couldn’t have been you. You would have said something.”

“You said nothing.”

“You didn’t even react! When I asked you if you had a soulmate, nothing about you said that you were lying.”

“Well, I didn’t see it then,” he admits lamely. “But… lately I’ve been seeing things in color. Usually it’s you. Just you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Cora, you’re my soulmate.” Isaac states it so simply, so matter of fact, and she doesn’t know what to make of it. “Or at least, I want you to be. If you want to be.”

She doesn’t know if what he’s saying is true or not. If there’s some kind of delayed time release on soulmates that she wasn’t aware of, but for now, she doesn’t care. She pushes up from the couch again and makes her way across the room, this time kissing him as though her life depends on it. As he drags her back towards the bedroom, she dives into her choice with abandon.

She’s pretty sure it’s the best one she’s ever made.

* * * * *

Years later, the two of them are fast asleep in a hotel room in Mystic Falls, trying to get some sleep before the next big crisis comes to pass. Cora would much rather take Isaac and run far, far away from here, where she doesn’t have to think about the bigger problems in the world at large, but Scott seems to think something Bad is happening, so they’re staying put until he says otherwise.

A faint buzzing sound breaks through the last remaining vestiges of sleep as she wakes up, and she finds her phone glowing with some kind of text message. As she reaches for it and opens the message, she's greeted with the video of a familiar-looking man that she can’t seem to place. Tall, dark hair, green eyes—something about him nags at the back of her brain, but she can’t quite put her finger on what. But before she can get too far, he speaks.

“Hey, it’s Derek. If you’re receiving this and you remember me, sorry. I must have forgotten to turn the message off. If you don’t remember me, then… I’m still sorry, I’ve just done something a lot more stupid. It’s a long story, but it involves magic and people getting erased wholesale from everyone’s memories. But I’m your brother—yes, you had one between you and Laura—and I’ve apparently gotten caught up in this memory magic too.”

Isaac stirs at the sound of the voice, and he shifts to move behind her, peering down at the screen over her shoulder.

“I know this is going to be a hard sell, but I’m going to ask anyway. Please come find me. Bring me back. If you remember Stiles, he’s probably the one with the most information about what’s going on. And if you don’t remember Stiles… then we’re all probably screwed.”

The man—Derek—looks exasperated for a moment, before continuing.

“Just please come find me. You’re all I have, which conversely means I’m all you have and I don’t want you to be out there alone. Isaac doesn’t count.”

“Rude,” Isaac fires back. The video ends not long after that, and Isaac frowns. “Quick question. Who the hell is Derek?”

Cora looks back at him and shakes her head. “Not a damn clue.”

[Next]

N ~ cora/isaac ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 1,716

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

“She’s pissed at me, isn’t she?”

Isaac rolls his eyes from his perfectly good car activity of staring out the window to turn and face Stiles as he drives them towards points unknown. Cora sleeps in the back seat, because dramatic emotions are a lot for her, and she was running on fumes. He glances back over his shoulder to his girlfriend, making sure she is, in fact, asleep, before turning to face Stiles again.

“What gave you that impression?”

Stiles gives him a look before rolling his eyes. “You know, your sarcasm? Still not helpful.”

Isaac rolls his eyes. “You took a member of her admittedly small family with you and things went bad enough that he was erased from her memory. How would you feel if someone did that to Scott?”

“Look—from what I remember, Derek was fully informed going in that this was a possibility.”

Isaac shakes his head before turning his attention out the window again. “Not the point. And I’m not here to make you feel better.”

He’s here for Cora, and Cora alone. Never mind the fact that he’s noticing the gaps in his own memory. He can’t remember the alpha who bit him, for one—could be Peter, could be Derek. And there are some other things, black holes where people should be. It’s disconcerting, given that Isaac doesn’t have many people to begin with. But for now? He still remembers Melissa. He still remembers Scott. He still remembers Cora.

Everything else, they can figure out later.

Stiles is quiet for a minute, keeping his eyes on the road. “She isn’t the only person who lost something here. According to the video I got, I lost someone too.”

“You got a video?” Isaac perks up, curious. “From who?”

“Someone named Allison Argent.”

“Like Chris Argent?”

Stiles nods. “She asked me not to tell him. Doesn’t want to mess up his happiness until we have a way to fix it. But … apparently she’s my soulmate.”

Isaac winces. He can’t help but feel sympathetic. Losing a soulmate to whatever this thing is can’t be easy. But Isaac has never been one for useless sympathy, so he pushes it to the side for a moment as he sits up.

“I’m not saying that you haven’t lost things. And let’s be clear, I’m not judging you. But I’m not going to say that she doesn’t have the right to be pissed at you, either.”

Stiles nods slowly before swallowing. “Fair. Guess I’ll just have to find some way to fix it.”

Isaac snorts. “Good luck with that.”

* * * * *

If there’s anything Isaac’s learned with dating Cora Hale, it’s that getting her to give up a grudge before she’s good and ready to be is near impossible. He has a feeling it will probably take either Stiles being thrown into this memory pit himself or getting her brother and her memories back for her to even start considering forgiveness, and he’s not about to rush her.

“I think he’s the reason I came back to Beacon Hills.”

They’re in a motel room for the night, having taken an evening on the long drive from DC to this secret supernatural compound that might contain some clues. Isaac stops as he emerges from the shower, toweling off his hair casually as he watches her. “Who?”

“Derek.” She glances over at him, pulling one knee into her chest. “I don’t know why I would have otherwise.”

Isaac nods slowly before moving to sit on the bed next to her, draping an arm around her shoulders. “If you keep looking for holes in your life, you’re probably going to find a lot of them. From both your brother and your uncle.”

Cora shifts to rest her head against his shoulder, curling in close. “Do you have any missing gaps?”

“I don’t remember who bit me,” he admits. “Though Peter bit Scott, so I guess that could be him or Derek.”

Cora nods. “One of them healed me, after the darach poisoned me. Whichever one the alpha was.”

“Maybe it won’t be such a bad thing,” he suggests, trying to be as casual as possible. “Having some family around, even if you don’t remember them.”

“Are they still family if I don’t remember them? Or does that make them strangers?” Cora pulls away, flopping back against the bed to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m not sure if it’s better or worse.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it until we find them.” Isaac shifts to lie down next to her. “We have to take this one goal at a time. First, we find them and get them out of this pit. Then we’ll worry about awkward memory games at the family reunion.”

Cora nods, her fingers reaching over to tangle in his. “Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“No matter what happens, don’t fall in that pit.” She turns to face him more, and while to most people can be unreadable, he knows her well enough to know that she fears losing someone else she’s close to. “I don’t care if you have to throw Stiles in to get away, just … I don’t think I could handle forgetting you on top of everything else.”

“I will one hundred percent throw Stilinski into the memory stealing pit before I do. Promise.”

She smiles, leaning in to kiss him, but before she can get close enough, there’s a fist pounding on the thin motel wall behind them.

“I heard that!” Stiles’ voice floats through the room.

“You were supposed to!” Isaac fires back, before turning back to Cora and dropping his voice a bit. “You good?”

She nods, before leaning in to kiss him. “Yeah. As good as I can be.”

He’s willing to bet that it’s not much, but for now, he’ll take it.

* * * * *

Once they arrive, Isaac is quick to note that Stiles wasn’t kidding when he said that this place was a fortress. A tall stone gate surrounds the property with plenty of space to run around, and the building itself is formidable. He can already feel his nose twitching at the feeling of mountain ash and wolfsbane in the area. Whoever these people are, they put in some serious precautions.

“Elena and Tyler have been through a lot of supernatural shit,” Stiles offers as an explanation. Isaac shrugs, taking it all in as they park and climb out of the car.

A werewolf, a vampire and a human stand at the top of the stairs. The werewolf hangs back, eyeing the two unknown elements that’s being invited into his den. The human greets them with a smile, long dark hair hanging around her shoulders. “I’m Elena, that’s Caroline and Tyler. Welcome to our home.”

“Isaac,” he offers, extending a hand to her. “And that’s Cora.”

“You’re members of Scott McCall’s pack?”

Isaac nods. “Thank you for letting us come. We’ll do our best to get out of your hair quickly.”

“No rush.” Elena turns and looks back at the blond vampire—Caroline—who’s hanging back in a conversation with Stiles. They’re keeping their voices low, so Isaac does the best to give them their privacy. “You’re not the only ones invested in solving this mystery.”

“Still,” Isaac nods. “Could you show us the stuff that was left behind?”

Elena nods, before waving a hand and gesturing for them to follow her. He catches the slight touch of her hand against the werewolf—Tyler’s—shoulder as they pass, and he relaxes somewhat, but not completely. Elena leads them through the house, up the stairs to a long series of rooms, and stops in front of one of the guest rooms.

“They weren’t staying in the same room, but we moved everything in here, for ease’s sake.”

“Thanks,” Isaac nods, before gesturing for Cora to make her way in first. She does, moving to the duffel bag on one side of the bed, while Isaac gravitates to the suitcase on the other. There’s something about it that itches at the back of his mind, and he sends off a silent apology to whoever it belongs to before unzipping it.

It clearly belongs to a woman, possibly this mysterious Argent that’s Stiles’ soulmate. But the second the scent hits him, he finds himself overwhelmed with flashes that he can’t quite understand. Silver, bow oil, dirt and dust. The glowing lights of a vending machine against the darkness of a closet. The feeling of a blade against his throat, but also the warm, pleasurable weight of someone on top of him, bearing that cloying, intoxicating scent.

There’s a moment of mild panic as he tries to make sense of the memories. While he knows Cora is his soulmate, and that he had had girlfriends before her, he’s realizing now that one of them, the one who is currently forgotten, was important to him.

“Are you okay?”

Elena’s voice cuts through the haze, and he does his best to shake it off. Because he’s not okay, but not in the way, she thinks.

“I think … I think I remembered them. Not any details, but…I think they were important to me once.”

“What?” Cora frowns as she looks back up at him, confused.

“I don’t know. I just caught the scent, and it brought all these feelings back.”

“Olfactory memory?” Elena tips her head to the side curiously. “Our sense of smell is so closely tied to our memories. Maybe since you’re a werewolf, it might be too strong for the spell to erase completely?”

Isaac shrugs. He doubts he’s the first werewolf to come face to face with a missing person’s scent, but it’s worth a shot. He glances over at Cora, nodding to the duffel bag, and she swallows before opening it herself. Her eyes glow gold as she does her best to take in as much of the scent as possible, but after a moment, she shakes her head.

“Nothing—not yet, anyway. Maybe I need to spend more time with it.”

“Worth a shot.” Isaac nods, before looking down at the suitcase again, running his hands over the items. Whatever this is, whoever this is, he can’t let them disappear.

Guess now he actually has skin in the game.

[Next.]

O ~ derek/caroline ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 1,657

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

Caroline watches as the two men disappear into another part of the Abattoir, before turning back to Hayley with a frown.

“Did I miss something?”

“So much,” Hayley sighs, before turning to head for one of the sitting rooms. “Want a drink?”

“Always.”

Caroline sets out to follow her, taking in the state of her home as Hayley walks Caroline through the last forty-eight hours and into the chaos that ensued. It’s a lot, if she’s honest, given all the current unknowns, and she hates the idea of Klaus being off the board for many complicated reasons. One is that knowing where Klaus Mikaelson is has always kept her safer. The other is that some part of her still cares about him, even if she knows he isn’t right for her. Hayley being his official, outright soulmate had eased that some, but they still linger, sneaking into her thoughts every so often.

“So Freya is back in Beacon Hills trying to figure out who this Peter guy is, and you brought Derek and Stiles back to find Hope. And we know for sure that Klaus doesn’t have Hope?”

“If he did, he would have sent word.” Hayley knocks back the rest of her drink. “But maybe this Peter guy is the one who hid her and now none of us can remember who he is.”

“That… makes things very complicated.”

Hayley nods before lifting the decanter with bourbon. “Another drink.”

“Please.” Caroline holds up her glass, watching the amber liquid swirl as Hayley pours. She takes another sip before taking a deep breath and asking what she doesn’t really want to ask. “So this Derek guy—”

Hayley smirks as she drops onto the couch again. “Is he really your soulmate?”

“According to the technicolor I’m now seeing,” she sighs. “How much do you know about him?”

“Well, his last name is Hale, which is this super powerful ancient werewolf line. But few of them are around anymore.”

“So hot local werewolf with a tragic backstory.” Caroline finishes her drink. “Yeah, that sounds like my type.”

Hayley laughs. “Look, I will not make fun of you. Derek seems like a nice guy. I think it’s the human you have to worry about.”

Caroline raises an eyebrow. “The Stiles guy?”

“He may be convinced that everyone Derek is actually attracted to might murder them all. I might hold off on the vamp reveal until you’re sure he likes you.”

Caroline laughs, but then her face sobers because oh. That might be a problem. Derek might have feelings about the fact that they won’t be able to have children of their own, or that pending interference. She’s going to live much longer than he would. But that’s a conversation they can save for when they’re getting to know each other. “I never thought I’d actually get one.”

Hayley tips her head to the side. “Why not?”

The blond shrugs, finishing her drink. “Look at what a stellar run at relationships I’ve had so far. Matt and I were dead in the water once I became a vampire. Klaus broke me and Tyler—”

“And then you and Klaus had a thing after that and he’s Klaus, so he ruined that too?” Hayley raises an eyebrow. “And let’s not forget Damon.”

Caroline holds up a finger. “Damon doesn’t count.”

Hayley holds up a hand in acknowledgement. “Fair enough. Damon doesn’t count. But—maybe what you need is someone who hasn’t been through all your traumas with you.”

Caroline opens her mouth to protest, then closes it again. Her eyes narrow as she considers. “… You might be right.”

Hayley smirks as she gets up to head to her room. “I’m not as dumb as I look.” She takes Caroline’s empty glass as she leaves. “Get some sleep. We’re going to start fresh looking for Klaus tomorrow.”

Caroline nods in agreement, but she has a feeling she won’t be able to sleep yet.

* * * * *

Elijah’s room has the best view of the Quarter, and since Elijah isn’t here to appreciate it, Caroline does instead. Spending time in New Orleans has never been easy, given everything that happened here and everything that happened in Mystic Falls, but this moment is nice to have a bit of quiet to see the city from a distance.

Footsteps sound in the hall behind her, followed by a gentle knock on the doorframe. Caroline turns, and there Derek stands, watching her from a distance. She flashes him a smile as she turns to face him.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he nods, before gesturing to the room ahead of him. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” she replies. He moves through the room to stand on the balcony next to her, and she really takes him in for the first time. Dark hair, green eyes, handsome, for sure. All the things she likes in a guy, at least on a superficial level. “I know downstairs was a lot, and everything right now is a lot, but… maybe we could—”

“Start over?” He asks, and she nods. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” He pauses long enough to hold out a hand to her. “I’m Derek Hale.”

“Caroline Forbes.” She smiles as she shakes his hand. “And—at the risk of being too upfront, since Hayley’s already given me some details on you, I’m a vampire.”

His eyes widen briefly, the wheels in his head turning as he watches her. “For how long?”

“Since I was seventeen.” A beat. “About ten years, now? Long enough to have a handle on things but not so old that I’ve lost touch with reality.”

“Good to know,” Derek nods, still processing. “Do you like it?”

She blinks, surprised by the question, but nods. “Yeah, weirdly enough. I mean, the blood drinking part sucks, but it made me the best version of myself.” She blinks. “Is that weird?”

Derek shakes his head. “No, that happened to another friend of mine, as werewolf though. Sometimes a change like that is what you need.”

“What about you? Should I worry about any kind of long-running werewolf-vampire rivalry?”

Derek smirks. “I’m not really in a position where I can refuse friends just because they’re vampires.”

“Good,” Caroline smiles. “Look, I know the universe is just smacking us in the face with this, but we can just… take things slow, you know? Get to know each other better?”

“I’m okay with that,” Derek nods. “Let’s just not tell Stiles you’re a vampire for a bit.”

“He’ll jump to the conclusion that I’m here to eat you.”

“He’s very paranoid.”

“I’ll keep it to myself,” Caroline laughs, as her phone begins to ring. “Oh, hold a sec.” She frowns at Elena’s name on the caller ID, and puts the phone to her ear. “Hey, Elena.”

“Hey. Have you heard anything about Klaus?”

Caroline frowns. “How do you know about Klaus?” A beat. “How do you know I know about Klaus?”

“Well, it’s Klaus,” Elena replies, not accusatory, but making her point well enough.

“Fair.”

“But I know about Klaus because Hope is with us.”

Caroline turns and meets Derek’s eyes, and he leaves not long after, going to wake up Hayley immediately. “Are you guys safe?”

“Yeah, we’re at the compound. She’s fine, so no need to rush.”

“Okay. I’ll talk it over with Hayley and we’ll be in touch. But thank you, Elena.”

“Of course. But Care? We have no idea how we got her.”

“When I get there, I’m gonna tell you all about a guy named Peter.” A beat, and she closes her eyes. “There’s also something else I have to tell you—”

* * * * *

The compound in question is a large swath of defensible land that Tyler bought with his inheritance after he and Elena needed to leave Mystic Falls for a while. He built it for her, a place where she could feel safe, even from powerful people like Klaus. The deed in their names, as well as Jeremy’s, who was often far away, walls of mountain ash for those that didn’t need an invitation in, and thick walls that would take time and effort to breach—the place was a fortress and Caroline is happy for them both, that after everything they’ve been through, they have a place like this to retreat to.

Elena lets them in when they arrive, waiting for them on the wide front porch as Caroline’s car pulls up the driveway. Standing by her side is Hope, who breaks away and rushes into her mother’s arms the minute she stepped out of the car. Hayley scoops her up and holds her close, one piece of relief lifting off her shoulders.

“Stiles, Derek, this is my best friend, Elena Gilbert. Elena, this is Stiles, and Derek.”

Elena’s eyes linger on Derek, before her eyebrows go up with an expression showing that they are going to talk later. Caroline shoots Derek an apologetic look that says she’s sorry in advance.

“This place is massive,” Stiles comments. “How did you do all of this?”

“It’s easy when you’re the last living member of your family and they leave you a shit ton of money,” Tyler replies, coming out of the house and draping an arm around Elena’s shoulders. “But welcome, all of you. Hopefully, we’ll be able to put our heads together and figure this out.”

Hope pulls back and looks at her mother. “Did you find Peter?”

All eyes turn to Hope. “Hope,” Hayley asks slowly. “Do you know who Peter is?”

“Yeah,” Hope looks at her mother, confused at her confusion. “He’s Aunt Freya’s soulmate.”

All the adults look confused. “How much do you remember about him?”

Hope’s eyes dart around the rest of the group, and she looks concerned. “Everything. Why?”

Tyler raises his hand. “Maybe we should take this inside. I think we’re all going to need a drink.”

[Next.]

P ~ stiles/allison ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 2,042

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous]

When a person like Hope Mikaelson is born, with abilities like she has, people talk.

Allison’s heard all kinds of rumors about Klaus Mikaelson’s surprise love child over the years, but there’s nothing that prepares her for coming face to face with a child. It's easy to forget, as someone in her position, that Hope Mikaelson hasn’t even hit double digits yet. There’s so many rumors and stories of what she may do, what might come for her in the future, but none of them account for the child she is now.

It worries her, in a way. Her life will never be peaceful or easy. It’s always going to be complicated by the virtue of who her family is. It isn’t fair. But fairness isn’t a thing in the world they live in. Especially not for children.

For now, she’s sitting with Tyler in the garden, the two of them sketching flowers while the adults figure out the next steps to take. Stiles hasn’t left her side since the moment they stepped onto the compound, and she knows that part of it is hyperawareness in potentially dangerous territory, part of it anxiety over the conversation they haven’t had yet, but she’s grateful that he’s there, that they’re in this together.

It’s still Team Human against the world.

“So how do you want to handle this?” Allison finally asks, drawing her eyes away from the window. “We need to know what Hope knows. We need to know how real this is.”

“Hard to do, when no one can confirm that the details she’s giving us are the truth. No one but Peter, anyway.” Freya takes a deep breath, the weight sitting heavily on her shoulders. “Right now, I think the priority is finding Klaus. He’s a known entity, and we don’t know how much longer that will remain if the people involved have access to this kind of magic.”

“And maybe finding him will lead to answers about what they did to Peter.” Hayley tips her head to the side. “Can you do a locator spell?”

“I would need all my siblings.” Freya nods. “And you, and Hope. All the things that tether Klaus to this world.”

“Stefan is living with Rebekah in New York. I can get him on the phone,” Caroline offers, reaching for her phone.

“Elijah is overseas with Antoinette, and Kol and Davina are still in San Francisco, last I checked,” Hayley rubs her eyes. “This will take more time than we have.”

Freya shakes her head. “I have Elijah’s blood on hand. It will serve well enough. Rebekah is within driving distance, and if Kol can’t come, then we’ll manage with what we have.” Allison can tell that she isn’t sure if it will be enough.

“The last time you did this spell, it took a lot out of you,” Derek replies. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Safety is relative.” Freya looks up with a grim expression. “I’m sure that the connection to my soulmate being severed on top of that exasperated the situation. I’ll be fine.”

Derek looks at Hayley, and Hayley holds up her hands. “I’m not in charge here. She’s going to do what she’s going to do.” Derek doesn’t look satisfied with that answer, but there’s not much they can do.

“Let’s just confirm some details first.” Allison fishes out the file they brought with her from the Beacon Hills sheriff’s department. Doing further research on Peter has brought out more information—the Hale fire, the incident in Mexico, the Deadpool—she still doesn’t understand how they could have lost someone so substantial, but she intends to set it right. “We also don’t know what these people want with Hope.”

“She’ll be safe here, with Tyler and I.” Elena nods. “Even if the person coming is human. We’ve got protections in place.”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t still find out why.” Allison turns to Hayley. “Do you mind if I talk to her?”

Hayley shakes her head. “Go ahead. Find out what she knows.”

Allison nods as she turns to head out the door, making her way down the porch steps to where the two artists are sitting. Tyler looks up when he sees her coming, before nudging Hope gently with his elbow.

“Hi, Hope. My name is Allison.”

“Stiles’ friend Allison?” There’s a coy expression that crosses her face, like a child who knows a secret, and Allison can’t help but smile.

“Well, I’m more than just his friend, but yes. That’s me.”

“He really likes you.”

“I would hope so. We’re great friends.” Allison hopes that cuts it off at the pass, before holding up her file. “I wanted to ask you a couple of questions about your friend Peter. Is that okay?”

Hope frowns, her face falling. “I don’t know why I’m the only one who remembers.”

“Me either. And you’re not in trouble for that, okay? But maybe knowing what you know might help them find him.”

Hope nods slowly, before placing her sketchpad down. “Okay.”

“So, how did you meet Peter?”

“He’s Aunt Freya’s soulmate. Dad was so mad when he found out. He didn’t think that any stranger was good enough to be her soulmate.” She rolls her eyes. “He does that a lot, though. Mom says it’s because he loves Freya a lot, but I hope he gets over it before I find my soulmate.”

Allison laughs. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”

“Anyway, he came by the belltower while we were working on spells one time, and we got to know each other. He was nice. Kind of sarcastic, but so is Aunt Freya, so it made sense.”

“I heard from your mom that you don’t think he’s a good person, though.”

“Nice doesn’t always mean good.” Hope shrugs. “He could be mean to other people, but he was never mean to me. But so is my family, and everyone says they’re really bad people.”

Allison and Tyler share a look of sympathy, and Allison reaches forward to take her hands. “Just because people are bad doesn’t mean they don’t love you any less. Both things can be true. It’s just… a lot of weight to carry.”

Hope looks up at her. “Do you have a bad family, too?”

Allison shrugs. “A little. Not as bad as your dad, but my grandfather, my mom, and my aunt hurt many people.” She hesitates. “Have you ever heard the name Argent?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Peter didn’t like them. He said they hurt his family.”

Allison nods. “That was my aunt Kate.” She couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but she’s fairly confident that there was only one Hale House fire. “But I’m the one in charge of my family now. And I’m trying to make it better.”

“You can do that?” Hope asks curiously.

“You can try.” She squeezes the little girl’s hands gently. “You can only control your own actions, but what you do matters. There’s never nothing you can do.”

Hope nods, a look of childish determination crossing her features. “I can be good. I know I can.”

“I know you can, too. But it’s okay if you make mistakes too. How we fix them says a lot about us too. Nobody’s perfect.”

Hope nods, contemplating that further. “I don’t know if Peter was trying to be better, but he really loved Aunt Freya. Even if he didn’t know how to say it yet. I think he was happy with us.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“In New Orleans. It was my birthday, and he was asking me about my party before the hunters attacked.”

“Did you see any of the hunters?”

“A little. None of them had faces. They were all wearing body armor. And they had this weird symbol on their vests.”

“Can you draw it for me?” Hope nods, reaching for her sketchpad and opening it to a clean page. Allison continues, watching as she draws a series of interlocking triangles. “What happened next?”

“Peter got shot. I could smell the blood. The guns kept firing, and he picked me up and took me out of the house, into his car. He drove me to the safe house, where Tyler and Elena picked me up. He told me he was going back to help my dad and Aunt Freya, and that was the last time I saw him.”

She pulls back from the sketch pad and passes Allison the drawing. Something about it nags in the back of Allison’s mind. She’s seen this symbol before. She just needs to figure out where.

“Tyler and Elena brought me back here, and we had dinner, and went to sleep. But when I woke up the next morning, they couldn’t remember how they knew to come get me. Or that I was even there. That’s weird, right?”

“Very.” Allison glances over at Tyler. “That lines up with when people started forgetting him in Beacon Hills too.”

“So whatever it was just wiped him from everyone’s memories, all over the world?” Tyler shakes his head. “I’ve never heard of a spell that powerful.”

“Neither have I,” Allison admits. “But I’m going to find out what it is.” She points to Hope’s drawing. “Can I borrow this?”

Hope nods, tearing the page out of her sketch book before looking up at Allison. “Did I do good?”

Allison nods, giving her a small smile as she takes the drawing. “You did great.” She just hopes that the information gets them somewhere, because right now it still feels like a dead end.

* * * * *

When she asks where everyone is sleeping, Stiles promptly leads her to the room he’s been using. She should have seen it coming, but it still surprises her all the same, that after all that waiting, he’s accepted her into his life so easily. Then again, after the roller coaster that some of her relationships have been, it’s actually kind of nice for things to be this easy.

He closes the door behind them and takes her by the shoulders. “I have so much to tell you.”

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

“Have you met Caroline?”

“Peppy blond?”

“Derek’s soulmate.” Allison’s eyes widen in surprise, so Stiles doesn’t wait for her to respond before he continues. “Also a vampire.”

“You have been busy.”

“I haven’t figured out if she’s evil yet, but I’ve at least gotten Derek tentatively to agree to keep his distance until I have.”

Allison raises an eyebrow as she goes to sit on the edge of the bed. “That sounds like wishful thinking.”

“Derek isn’t very judicious with his love life. I mean, look at the people he’s dated. Kate Argent? The Darach.”

“Braedan?”

“I’m still not entirely convinced she won’t sell us out to the highest bidder.”

Allison shakes her head before reaching for his hand to pull him down onto the bed with her. “As tempting as it is to obsess about Derek’s love life, can we have just a modicum of focus? We need to figure out what happened to Peter and get our memories back.”

“Right.” Stiles sighs. “Let me see that symbol again?”

Allison passes the page over to him and slumps back against the pillow. “I know I’ve seen it before, I just can’t place where. I was going to run it through the Bureau database.”

“No, I’ve seen this before, too.” He tips back so that he’s resting next to her, holding it up over her heads. “It’s like some kind of logo. Where did Hope say she saw this?”

“She said it was on the body armor of the hunters. Like they’re part of some sort of army. That’s weird, isn’t it? Hunters aren’t usually that organized.”

Stiles doesn’t respond, before shooting up, eyes wide. “They’re not hunters.”

Allison frowns as she turns to look at him. “You know it?”

“Yeah, I know it. We gotta go.” Stiles pushes up from the bed and makes his way towards the door. “If this is what I think it is, Peter’s in big trouble. And so is Klaus.”

She pushes up to follow him, already concerned. So much for a quiet night in.

[Next]

Q ~ stiles/allison ~ tvdverse/teen wolf ~ 2,334

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

BANG BANG BANG.

Stiles groans as his head snaps up from the pillow it’s resting on, woken from a dead sleep by the sound of someone pounding on the door. He’s back in his apartment in DC, trying to wrestle himself back into wakefulness and pretend that he doesn’t feel like there’s something he’s missing. The gray scale swirl of the surrounding room slowly comes into focus as he rubs his eyes before stumbling to the door.

“Who is it?”

“Open the door, asshole.”

“Cora?”

He blinks, trying to remember the last time Cora Hale felt the need to break down his door. It’s been at least months, if not a year, and the reason has gotten hazy—uncomfortably so. Part of him wonders if this is a side effect of the Malivore pit and who they’re currently missing, but that’s a problem to solve when Cora isn’t pissed at him.

He pulls open the door, and she and Isaac are standing on the other side. He glances up at the other man, raising an eyebrow as though to ask what the big deal is, and Isaac shrugs.

“Don’t look at me. I don’t know what you did.”

Cora barges past Stiles into the apartment, and Isaac follows behind her, giving the impression of being more calm, but Stiles has known him long enough to tell the difference. His shoulders are tense, his jaw set—something is up. But what, Stiles does not know. So he closes the door and turns to face the two werewolves in his living room.

“What?”

Cora fishes her phone out of her pocket, taps the screen a few times before pushing the device into his chest. “I got this video emailed to me this morning.”

Stiles pulls away to look at it, and the screen revealed a handsome, dark-haired man speaking into the camera. The features and temperament would mark him as a Hale if Stiles didn’t know better, and that there were only two left. In fact, if he didn’t know better, he would say that this man and Cora could be siblings.

“Who is this?”

“I have no fucking idea.” Cora crosses her arms in front of her chest. “But he claims he’s my brother. I don’t remember having a brother.”

“I think we all would have remembered if you had a brother,” Stiles admits, but even something about it feels wrong.

“Listen to it.”

“Hey, it’s Derek. If you’re receiving this and you remember me, sorry. I must have forgotten to turn the message off. If you don’t remember me, then… I’m still sorry, I’ve just done something a lot more stupid. It’s a long story, but it involves magic and people getting erased wholesale from everyone’s memories. But I’m your brother—yes, you had one between you and Laura—and I’ve apparently gotten caught up in this memory magic, too. I know this is going to be a hard sell, but I’m going to ask, anyway. Please come find me. Bring me back. If you remember Stiles, he’s probably the one with the most information about what’s going on. And if you don’t remember Stiles… then we’re all probably screwed.”

The rest of the message fades into static as Stiles stares at the phone, trying to make it make sense until. “…Shit.”

“Shit, what?”

Cora’s going to hit him. He’s ninety percent certain that Cora is going to break his face when he tells her this because he knows how important family is to her. He knows how important having anyone is to her. That they ran into some kind of suicide mission where people stood the chance of getting erased will not go over well with the surlier Hale.

When he doesn’t answer, she takes another step closer. “Shit what, Stiles?”

Stiles looks up and takes a breath. “So in Beacon Hills, Scott and Lydia got ambushed by Hayley Marshall who was looking for someone named Peter. We weren’t sure who it was, so Lydia dug into it and we figured out that it was a guy named Peter Hale.”

“There isn’t a Hale named Peter.”

“Yeah, except for the fact that there is.” He gestures for Cora to follow him as they head back to the kitchen, where all of his file is spread out on the kitchen table. He sorts through some of them before pulling up the photocopy of Peter Hale’s license. He passes it to her, watching as she looked over the image, but the recognition isn’t there.

“He was the alpha, Cora. He bit Scott, awakened Lydia, killed Kate Argent, set all of this into motion. So Hayley convinced Scott and Lydia to take part in some kind of weird locator spell, but somewhere in the process of that spell, he was erased from all of our memories. Completely erased.”

“What did this Hayley person want with him?”

“She thought he might know where her daughter was, Hope. They had been attacked in New Orleans, and Hope and Peter disappeared in the aftermath.”

“Okay, so we all forgot him. What does this have to do with the guy claiming to be my brother?”

“We started splitting up, digging into trying to find out who this Peter guy was while some of us went to look for Hope. And what we found out is that there’s a pit somewhere in Georgia, that if someone gets thrown into it, they’re erased from the collective memory.” He passes her phone back to her. “Those videos were a failsafe. If something went wrong in the rescue mission, to have them be a reminder that they existed and that someone needed to get them back.”

“So you’re saying my brother went into this pit?”

“I’m going to assume so, yes, because I don’t remember you ever having a brother. And I don’t think that’s something you would forget easily.”

Cora scowls before heading over to his coffee pot and pressing buttons. Stiles tips his head to the side, mouth dropping open and asking a question, but then deciding that figuring out how she knows how his coffee maker works isn’t really the priority right now.

“Sure, Cora, help yourself to my coffee.”

“The coffee’s not for me, it’s for you.” She slides the cup under the spout before turning to face him. “Because you’re not going back to bed. No sleep for you until we get my brother back.”

Stiles makes a face like he wants to argue with her. Just because she has a brother doesn’t mean he’s a good person. Peter Hale definitely wasn’t a good person. He knows Cora is at a loss for family, but that doesn’t mean she should be desperate. But before he can open his mouth to contradict her, Isaac’s hand comes down on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t, dude.”

Stiles glances to Issac and sees the resigned look on his face. He knows Cora better than anyone—soulmates and all—and if he said that this is a battle he shouldn’t fight, Stiles should listen to him. But he can’t help but be a little contradictory. He grabs his phone and pulls up the DoorDash app.

“Fine. But if you’re putting me to work this early, we’re also having food.”

* * * * *

He waits until actual morning to bring that there is someone who might actually remember Derek. He’s not calling Hayley Marshall, a soulmate of Klaus Mikaelson, asking to speak to their seven-year-old daughter at three in the morning. Not when they still don’t know for sure why Hope remembers everyone when no one else does.

Hayley’s brushing it off as her tribrid nature, but there has to be a reason. Stiles just hasn’t put his finger on it.

It also becomes clear, as they research, that while the spell does well with everyone’s memories, it was not created in the technical age. Although no one remembered Derek Hale ever existed, there’s plenty of evidence that he did. Credit cards, financial records, obituaries—he’s survived far more people than anyone ever should. He’s even in Cora’s obituary, even though her obituary was a mistake. Stiles almost feels bad for the guy, but it makes sense that he would beg for his sister to come find him if he was forgotten.

With each new piece of evidence they find, Cora becomes more and more focused, wanting to find forward motion. But when they don’t come up with a last known address for her to get a scent from, she lets Isaac convince her to get some sleep—apparently they’ve been up longer than Stiles has.

He waits until the door to the guest room closes, before slumping back on the couch and reaching for his phone. Sun is peaking through the windows and he pulls up his phone, deciding it’s late enough to risk the wrath of the Original hybrid.

Hayley’s phone rings once, twice, before: “Stiles?”

“Hey. So remember that thing about how we thought we might have lost some people when we were rescuing Klaus?”

“You got confirmation?”

“Derek Hale.”

“Like Peter Hale?”

“Yeah, just like. He has—had a sister, Cora. She got the video and subsequently beat down my door, looking for answers.”

“Shit.” A beat. “Do you want me to see what Hope remembers?”

“If you could? I know we she’s still upset about her aunt—” Aunt Freya, one person Hope immediately asked for upon their return. “—but the more information we have, the better.”

“Yeah, of course.” He hears the shift in tone as she put the phone on speaker. “Hope, sweetheart? It’s Agent Stilinski. He wants to ask you a few questions.”

“Is it about his soulmate?”

The innocent question hits him like a gut punch. He lost a soulmate? He can’t remember his life ever being in color, but if they’re gone, it would make sense that things would revert to how they were. As panic sets in, he can feel his chest tighten.

“I had a soulmate?”

“…Oops.” Hope sounds contrite, despite how she says it.

“Was it Derek? Is their name Derek?”

“No.” Hope sounds confused. “Her name was Allison.”

“Oh, that’s a relief.” As much as he likes Cora, he does not want to be marrying into her family. They are far too angry and violent for his taste. “Not that she’s missing, but—it’s a long story. But Hope, do you remember someone named Derek Hale?”

“Peter’s nephew,” she confirms with a nod. “He left with you to go to Atlanta and he didn’t come back.”

“And neither did Allison, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah. Are you going to get them back?”

“I don’t know.” He doesn’t want to make promises he can’t keep, especially when he still doesn’t understand all of this, but he’s certainly willing to try. “But as soon as we figure it out, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay,” Hope sighs. “Is there anything else you wanted to know?”

“No, Hope. But you did great, okay? Thank you.”

The phone switches off speaker, and Hayley’s voice returns to the line. “Maybe since this is a magic problem, we might need some help with a magic solution.”

“Do you have any suggestions?”

“I have some trees I can shake,” Hayley nods. “You focus on finding out what you can about who’s missing and where they might have gone. I’ll work the memory angle.”

“Deal,” Stiles nods, before saying goodbye and hanging up. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he’s about to make another phone call when another email pops into his inbox.

From an Allison Argent.

Immediately, he clicks on it, and up comes the video. Staring back at him is a beautiful woman with curly dark hair, and he can feel his chest ache, almost as though he’s recognizing the thing he lost. Running a hand through her hair, she sighs.

“You know, I’m not really sure how to do this. It’s weird to make a video to send to someone who will not remember who you are. But I’m going to try, so—hi. I’m Allison. And I love you.”

It feels like its something that’s difficult for her to say, whether because she knows she will not hear it back, or if feelings are hard, which makes sense. He can commiserate.

“I know that even seeing my face is going to send you into a spiral until you find me, so let’s set that request aside for right now. Here’s the one thing I need you to do. I need you to not tell my dad. He and Melissa are so happy, and I don’t need him worrying about a daughter he’s forgotten. So, find me, Stiles. I know you will. But leave my dad out of it, okay?”

That’s a promise he can keep. He tries to avoid Chris Argent if he can help it. But he can’t help but have his heart sink at the idea of this being a secret to keep. Swiping the app away, he goes back to his contact list and finds Elena’s number. It rings twice, and she answers.

“Hey, Stiles. Did you forget something?”

“You could say that.” He closes his eyes. “Was there anything left behind? Like there was someone staying there, but you can’t remember who?”

“…Yeah, actually. Two someone’s.” He can practically hear the frown in her expression. “Why? You think you might know who they belong to?”

“I think so. Do you mind if I bring two werewolves with me back to grab it? You can say no, and it’ll be just me, but I was hoping to have them do some scent tracking.”

“Yeah, of course. If it goes wrong, we can have the wards—” Elena’s voice trails off, and when she speaks again, her voice is full of concern. “Care?”

He can’t see Caroline’s face. He can barely hear her voice, given that he doesn’t have any superhearing. But he can hear just enough when she says: “Who’s Derek?”

“…Shit.”

[Next.]

R ~ derek/caroline ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 1,920

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

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.”

[Next]

S ~ scott/lydia ~ teen wolf ~ 2,137

[iluvroadrunner6]

Lydia’s always considered the idea of a soulmate rather reductive.

She knows the rules. You wake up on your eighteenth birthday, and your world goes black and white. You only see in color when you find your soulmate, your perfect person. After that, it’s sunshine and rainbows, vibrance and magic, and you never have to fret romantically ever again. Lydia, personally, rejects this outright for two reasons. One, it takes any choice they have out of the matter. If Lydia is going to spend her life with someone, she wants it to be someone she chooses. Someone she trusts. Someone who’s proven that they care about her beyond the fact that they can tell the red of her hair or the paleness of her skin.

Two, because the person who the universe has designated her soulmate absolutely cannot be her soulmate.

She wakes up on the day of her eighteenth birthday with her world effectively plunged into gray scale. That much is true. She goes about her day as though nothing changed. She doesn’t want to make anything about her newly eligible for soulmate status any more of a thing than it already has been. If nothing else, she’s prepared to be disappointed. Allison didn’t wake up on the morning of her eighteenth birthday and find her soulmate wandering the halls of Beacon Hills High. Lydia doesn’t know why she should.

Stiles greets her at the door with a birthday kiss and a far-too-extravagant birthday gift, but doesn’t send her world back into a wave of color. Which is fine. They’re off to college soon anyway, and maybe it’s something that comes with time. She didn’t expect to find her soulmate on Day One.

“So? What do you think?” He says, gesturing to the rest of him.

“What do I think about what?”

“My outfit.”

Her eyes wandered down to the gray scale blend of colors. She hasn’t quite gotten good at determining which is which out without the advantage of being able to see in color, and idea that it’s a test doesn’t register until after the words come out of her mouth.

“What about it?”

Stiles’ face falters, and she knows that the question was a mistake. She’s not sure what fairy tale he was hoping for, but this clearly isn’t it.

“Never mind.” Stiles shakes his head. “I guess it’s not me, then.”

“Stiles, it means nothing. People stay together and get married all the time without finding their perfect person.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She can tell from his tone he’s not convinced, but she doesn’t feel like spending her birthday breaking up with her boyfriend, so she pushes off the conversation.

Avoidance is a Lydia Martin special.

“Look, I have to stop by my locker before class. But we’ll talk about this later, okay?”

Stiles murmurs something noncommittal before heading off with Isaac. Lydia shakes her head and ventures over to her locker to get what she needs. She’s in the middle of shoving her books in her bag when she hears a voice over her shoulder.

“Man, I was hoping to beat you here.”

The first thing she sees is a pile of gray scale vinyl balloons. The second is the faded blue of a denim jacket.

Contrary to popular belief, the color doesn’t come on automatically when you find your soulmate. It’s more of pop of color in a sea of gray that slowly blends into something brighter. Scott’s bright smile meets her eyes, and the warm sepia tones of his skin are so vibrant that it almost makes her want to reach out and touch it. She might have, were her stomach not immediately tying in knots at the implications.

“Happy birthday,” he grins as he shoves the balloons in her hands. When she doesn’t immediately respond beyond taking them, he frowns. “You okay, Lydia?”

“Yeah.” Lydia is nothing if not an expert at being fine. “I’m fine. Thank you, for the balloons.”

“Of course. I’ll see you in class later.”

As Scott disappears down the hallway, she watches him go, briefly dazed and confused. If anyone was going to be her soulmate, she never expected it to be her best friend’s ex. Her boyfriend’s best friend. Nothing about this feels okay, and after shoving the balloons into her car, she crafted a game plan.

Clearly, this is wrong. Clearly, this is the universe messing with her. And she just has to survive until things right themselves again.

* * * * *

Things do not, in fact, right themselves again.

Her world only serves to get more vibrant. Scott is not a person she can conceivably avoid, between the pack and being her friend. Things would get weird if Lydia suddenly didn’t want to be around him anymore. But fortunately for her, Scott is seventeen. It makes it easy to hide the truth. Especially as her and Stiles’ relationship deteriorates and Scott takes Stiles’ side, because of course he should.

They’re best friends.

By the time graduation comes around, she’s built a comfortable buffer between herself and the rest of the pack. MIT is just around the corner, and soon she’ll be free. Part of her misses how integrated she was in the pack, and the warm, comfortable presence of Scott in her life, but she knows it’s for the best in the end.

As she’s packing up her stuff to prepare to drive across the country with Allison, who is starting her freshman year at Boston University. She’s narrowed her stuff down to leave enough space for Allison’s things, but as she steps back to close the door, she startles when she sees Mason there.

“Jesus!” she jumps, releasing the door and watching as it springs back into position above her head. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“You could have texted.”

“I didn’t think this was a texting conversation.” He slides his hands in his pockets as he leans against her car. “You’ve been acting weird for months.”

“I haven’t been weird.”

“You’ve been pulling away. At first I thought it was just you being weird about going to school, but then you and Stiles broke up and I counted back to when the weirdness started and I realized it started around your birthday. Stiles wasn’t your soulmate.”

“No, he wasn’t. I didn’t think it was that big a deal, but apparently he did.”

“But that isn’t it, though.” Mason tips his head to the side. “Do you know who your soulmate is?” Lydia doesn’t answer, pursing her lips together as she closes the trunk, and Mason’s eyes widen. “You do, don’t you? Is it someone in the pack?”

“Mason, I am warning you—”

“Because it always seems like you’re the weirdest around Scott.”

Lydia falls silent again, not wanting to put it all into words. Mason watches her carefully, and then his face softens in concern. “Does he know?”

“No.” Lydia turns to face him, determination in her eyes. “Mason, you can’t tell him. You can’t tell anyone. It’s too complicated.”

“Lydia, he’s going to find out, eventually. He turns eighteen in September, and once he does—” Mason’s voice trails off as he connects the dots. “You’ll already be at school.”

“Exactly. Then things don’t have to be complicated.” Lydia shakes her head. “Just… don’t tell him. Please? I’m sure we’ll deal with this one day, but right now everything is too… messy.”

Mason nods as Allison’s car pulls up to the curb, and he steps forward to pull her into a warm hug. “We’re going to miss you in the brain trust.”

“I’m always a text or call away.” She releases him as Allison and her father drag her luggage from one car to the next. Mason turns to give the same goodbyes to Allison, and soon the two women are on their way, heading into their next adventure.

She’s sure that Beacon Hills will call them home again. But until then, it and all its complications are best left in the rearview mirror.

* * * * *

The thing that’s most unfortunate about the fact that every adult living over the age of eighteen spends at least some of their life in black and white is that fashion seems to suffer. While there are companies that play it safe, sticking to black and white blocking and shades of gray, there are options for those who want to spice up their world.

And you can always tell when that person shouldn’t be as confident about their relationship as they want to be. Lydia, being able to see in color, suffers through it all, but she refuses, under any circumstance, to let her friends suffer.

“No, not that one.”

It had been an idle dismissal, one Lydia had given Jackson many times before when they were dating, and he picked the wrong shirt. She barely even looks up from her phone before she waves it away.

“That color is terrible for your skin tone. Try the one to the right.”

Jackson blinks before turning to stare her down. “How would you know which color is better for my—” Her eyes widen but before she can protest, he turns to face her. “You can see in color.”

“Jackson—”

“For how long?” She purses her lips, and he turns all of his attention on her. “Lydia, how long?”

“Since my birthday,” she admits softly.

“So it was someone in Beacon Hills? But someone you don’t want to tell anyone about.” He weighs his options before frowning. “I’m guessing it wasn’t Stilinski. Was it Derek?” Lydia shakes her head. “Peter?”

“God no.”

“Then who?” He takes a second, but then it clicks. “McCall?”

Lydia swallows hard. “Jackson, you can’t…”

“Who am I going to tell?” He abandons the clothing choices for the moment before moving to sit next to her. “Does he know?”

She shakes her head. “I left before he turned eighteen and I never told him.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“I can’t avoid him forever, right?” She takes a deep breath. “Back then, Stiles complicated things. But now I feel like it’s been too long.”

“Do you want him?”

“I don’t know what I want.” Lydia sighs. “And I also don’t know what he wants, which makes things infinitely harder.”

“Well, the funny thing about that is that you’re never going to know unless you go talk to him about it.” Jackson slides an arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer. “And for what it’s worth? I think there are worse people to be soul bonded to.”

Lydia knows Jackson isn’t always right, but she can’t argue with that one.

* * * * *

Lydia is heading into her master’s degree when the text finally comes.

I need you in Beacon Hills.

She doesn’t fight it, simply packs up her things and heads home for the summer, knowing that if nothing else, her mother will be happy to see her. As she drives through the familiar streets to the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic, she can’t help but feel like she’s come home, in an odd sort of way. There’s something about being here that’s inherently comforting, even as dangerous as it is.

She pulls into her parking space as Scott is walking out one dog to their owner and he gives her a small wave through the window. A bright grin flashes across his face, and it makes something in her heart flutter, a feeling she isn’t entirely sure she can put a name on yet.

As he makes his way closer, she climbs out of the car, meeting his eyes for the first time in years. She watches as he stops short, confusion coloring his features that eventually melts away into understanding. Even if he didn’t understand why the distance between them happened, he can hazard a guess.

“Hi,” she finally whispers, to break the silence.

“Hi,” he says in return, before reaching forward, curling his fingers around a stray lock of hair framing her face. “I forgot how red your hair is.”

She smiles softly, feeling her heart swell a bit in response, before he gently tugs her closer, pulling her into a warm hug. “I missed you.”

“You could have told me.”

“I know.” Lydia’s arms curl up around his shoulder to keep him close. “But everything was too complicated. I just didn’t know how.”

Another car pulls in behind them, and he slowly pulls away. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

She nods, stepping to the side and putting some distance between them. As the rest of the pack assembles, she can’t really predict how things will go from here.

But she can’t help but feel a little lighter for not having to carry this secret alone anymore.

[Next.]

T ~ derek/caroline ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 1,137

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous]

Derek finishes the video he’s scheduling to send to Cora and Malia. He’s not entirely sure what to say to them if he disappears, but he hopes it will be enough to at least get Cora to act. Malia’s always been more of a wild card, but Cora would want to grasp onto any family she could get her hands on. She would come for him.

Hopefully she won’t get erased herself.

He’s pocketing his phone, getting ready to go find the rest when he turns to find Caroline standing there, looking back at him with a small smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

They’ve had a few moments to themselves over the past couple of days, slowly peeling back the layers and get to know each other better. Part of him already knows that there’s something about Caroline that he likes, how her brightness reminds him of Scott in some ways, where it’s more of a warm glow you can bask in than a spotlight that’s trying to outshine you. He likes it. He likes her.

And he knows that if this goes wrong, this all could disappear in an instant.

“Can I ask… who you made that video for?”

“My sister,” he replies. “And tangentially my cousin, but mostly my sister. Malia is harder to sell, really.”

“I get that from her,” Caroline nods, before shaking her head. “I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that your cousin and Elena’s brother are soulmates. Small world.”

“Yes, it is.”

Derek turns to face her more, watching her as she cycles through a series of expressions that he knows, from the number of tough conversations he’s had in his life never lead to anything good. But, he can’t say he minds the bad news.

“You’re not going.”

Caroline looks up, briefly relieved that she doesn’t have to say the words. It’s clearly hard on her she will not be helping, but he knows she has to have her reasons.

“I have the school and my daughters. I can’t just… risk disappearing from memory. There are too many people counting on me.”

“I understand,” Derek nods. It’s probably good. He doesn’t want to risk forgetting her either, even if it’s only the potential of her. “It’s okay.” Not that he thinks it’s on him to absolve her, but she was clearly concerned about telling him. Maybe she’s liking him, just about as much as he likes her.

“It doesn’t feel okay,” Caroline admits softly, before looking him at him with a smile. “I guess I’m too much of a responsible adult to be dealing with the supernatural anymore, unless it’s right on my doorstep.”

“Is there such a thing?” Derek replies dryly, and she laughs. It’s such a great sound.

“But, before you left,” Caroline steps closer, shifting to lean against the wall next to him. “I thought that maybe once all this craziness is over and you got your forgotten uncle back, maybe we could… have dinner or something?”

He raises an eyebrow with a bit of a smirk. “Like a date or something?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Caroline wrinkles her nose. “This is so weird, but I figure, hey. If the universe is already telling us we’re compatible, might as well see if it’s right.”

“Makes sense to me. I’m probably due to see Malia anyway, so maybe you could show me around town?”

“I’d like that.” She leans in closer, giving him a brief kiss on the cheek. “Just don’t get erased, okay? I know we’ve just met, but… I don’t want to forget you, either.”

Derek closes his eyes at the touch, shifting the focus to his ears for a moment to make sure no one else is coming. Then he takes Caroline by the waist, stepping backwards and pulling her into the door of his room, stepping up to press her against the wall. He meets her eyes briefly, giving her ample opportunity to tell him to stop.

She doesn’t.

He then leans in and kisses her, soft and slow. Not chaste, but not asking for more, either. Just a simple test of the waters, a promise of more to come provided things don’t end worse than where they’re starting. Caroline’s hands wander up to his shoulders, pressing back, pulling him in so that they can both just sink into the moment. It feels right in all how he hoped it would, and as much as he doesn’t want to break the kiss, eventually he pulls back.

Caroline keeps her eyes closed for a moment, savoring the closeness, before looking up at him. “What was that for?”

He shrugs. “I wanted to.” The corner of his mouth quirks up in a hint of a smirk. “Something to remember me by.”

She rolls her eyes, but her smile widens as she looks up at him. “Well, it was very memorable.”

“Good.”

She pauses, before letting a hand rest against his chest before looking up at him more solemnly. “Send me one of those videos, too. Just in case.”

Derek nods, stepping back to give her room to leave. As she slips away, she turns back to him with a small nod.

“Good luck, Derek.”

“Thanks.”

* * * * *

They leave early the next morning, the squad of them. Hayley, Derek, Freya, Stiles, and Allison, with Elena, Caroline, and Tyler taking care of Hope. Derek and Stiles wait while Hayley says goodbye to her daughter, and his eyes keep drifting to Caroline, hoping that this isn’t the last time he’s going to see her.

Stiles nudges him with an elbow, before raising an eyebrow. “What’s with your face?”

“What?” Derek frowns, turning to face him. “Nothing.”

“You keep staring at Caroline.”

“I’m not staring.”

“Are you actually into her?”

“Stiles.”

“Because if you are actually interested in pursing this, I’m going to need to run a full background check, both human and supernatural.”

“You know she can hear you, right?”

“Good. Then she’ll know that I will fully bring down the weight of the United States government on her head should she prove to be any kind of great evil.”

Derek rolls his eyes before looking over at Allison. “You realize what you’ve signed up for, right?”

Allison snorts, then nods. “Yep. Well aware.”

“Good. Just checking.” He sends Caroline a sympathetic look before moving to slide into the back of the SUV. “I’m going to wait in the car.”

It’s not long before Allison and Stiles join him, and Freya slides into the passenger’s seat. Hayley comes a few minutes later, getting into the driver’s seat and putting her game face on. She takes a deep breath before gripping the steering wheel and nodding.

“Okay. Let’s go take down Triad.”

Derek can’t help but feel like this is going to be easier said than done.

[Next]

U ~ chris/melissa ~ tvdverse/teen wolf ~ 1,271

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

“I should go with you.”

“No, you should not.”

Not that Chris doesn’t trust his daughter. He does. He trusts Allison can take care of herself and that she will handle whatever comes her way. But he feels like his much, as her father makes it a priority to tell her she shouldn’t do reckless and dangerous things.

Running off with a Mikaelson witch in search of Klaus Mikaelson himself? That sounds reckless and dangerous.

Allison sighs as she turns to look at her father, but before she can say anything, Freya cuts her off. “He’s probably right.” Both Argents turn suddenly to face her, surprise coloring both their features. Freya shrugs. “When it comes to my family, people usually die. You might be safer if you don’t come.”

“See, that doesn’t make me feel any better.” Allison points out. “Derek and Stiles are there with him, and they could probably use whatever resources they can get.”

“Resources you can still use from here,” Chris replies gently. “Derek can take care of himself. And Stiles.” Allison raises an eyebrow like she’s expecting him to continue, before he shakes his head. “No, that was it. Derek will take care of them both.”

Allison rolls her eyes before shaking her head. “I’m not leaving them to do this alone. I’m going.”

Chris presses his lips together, and he knows he’s not winning this debate. Allison will go to Stiles, for reasons he doesn’t understand. He takes a deep breath, reaching for her shoulders and giving them a small squeeze.

“Look, just be careful, alright? This is dangerous.”

“I’m an FBI agent who grew up in a hunter family. My whole life is dangerous. I will be fine.” She pushes up and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “You know I will.”

Chris would like to point out that he doesn’t know any such thing, but he knows it won’t change anything. Instead, he waits until Allison heads out before he pointedly looks at Freya. “If anything happens to her—”

“I know. Raining down hell, blood and fire,” Freya smirks in the older hunter’s direction. “I’ve done this song and dance before. But you know that if you come for my family—”

“I do.” Chris sighs. “But saying it makes me feel better.”

The witch laughs as she follows him out. At least someone has a sense of humor about this.

* * * * *

“You’re in a mood.”

Chris looks up from the stove, turning towards Melissa with a small smile. “Maybe. But it might get better.”

“Charmer,” she teases, before moving to wrap her arms around his waist from behind. “What’s wrong?”

Chris sighs as he continues stirring the food in front of him. “Allison is going with Freya to look for Klaus Mikaelson.”

“Forgive my minimal supernatural knowledge. But is that a good person or a bad person?”

“A bad person. A terrible person.”

“So why is she doing it?”

“Because Derek and Stiles are helping them, and she wants to have their backs.”

“Ah.”

Chris waits for the pause that follows. He knows his wife’s tone, and there’s something in the way she says it that shows she knows something he doesn’t. “And?”

“And what?”

“You know something.” Chris pauses, turning down the heat on the stove as he moves to face her. “What do you know?”

“And what exactly makes you think I know anything?”

Chris gives her a look, and she stares him down for a good portion of it, but eventually she caves. “I have confirmed nothing. So if I tell you this, you can’t spread it around.”

“Melissa.”

“Stiles… might be Allison’s soulmate.”

Chris takes a moment to sit with that information, trying to figure out how he felt about it. Chris has had his own soulmates, Melissa included. It’s not that he doesn’t want his daughter to have that kind of connection with someone. It’s just that he’s concerned it’s coming up now.

And also, maybe a little because it’s Stiles.

“Where did you hear that?”

“Scott caught them together at the clinic,” Melissa replies. “I’m not supposed to know, but it came out.”

“Ah,” Chris nods slowly. “This is a good thing, right?”

Melissa laughs. “I know how Stiles presents to the rest of the world, but he’s a sweet kid. And he’s a good boyfriend. He’ll take care of Allison.”

“I know,” Chris nods. “I know he will. But he also has a tendency to run headfirst into danger, and—”

“You know your daughter is going to want to play hero all the time?” Melissa says with an amused smirk. “Yeah. I’m aware of that. But your stepson is a true alpha and Stiles is his best friend. Either way, I think Allison was always going to rescue him.”

“You have a point.”

“Besides. She enjoys being the hero.”

“She does.” He leans in to press a kiss to the top of her head. “It doesn’t bother them we’re together now, does it?”

Melissa hums against his chest as she leans in closer. “I think if it did, they would have objected a lot sooner. Scott has told me he just wants me to be happy.”

“Are you saying I make you happy?” Chris teases and she laughs.

“You do. When you’re not running into danger like an idiot.” She looks up at him with a smirk. “There’s no question where your daughter gets it from.”

He shakes his head before leaning in to kiss her. “I’ll talk with her about it later. But for now, we’re having dinner.”

“Good,” Melissa kisses him back, before pulling back and heading into the kitchen. “I’ll go grab the plates.”

* * * * *

Chris makes his way back towards the bedrooms where Allison is packing and knocks lightly on the doorframe. He’s done this so many times over the years—he doesn’t know when he missed his daughter was all grown up.

“Have a sec?”

“Yeah,” she glances back with a smile. “What’s up?” Then, there’s a moment of realization. “You’re not trying and talk me out of this again, are you?”

“No, no, I’m not.” Chris moves to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out the best course of action. “I know you’re going to go. And Melissa might have given me a hint why.”

Allison’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “Scott still can’t keep a secret to save his life, can he?”

“No, he cannot.” Chris smirks. “How long have you known?”

Allison shrugs. “A few months? But we’re not even really together yet. It’s still really new.”

“I get it. Something like this… it can be scary.” He reaches over and takes her hand, pulling her in to sit next to him. “And I understand why you want to go after him. It’s natural to want to protect the person you’ve chosen.”

“He’s my friend too.”

“That too.” Chris looks over at her. “Just be careful, okay? The Mikaelsons aren’t trustworthy people.”

“I know they’re not. And so does Stiles.” Allison turns to face Chris more. “He’s not just my soulmate, Dad. He’s my work partner too. And we have to have each other’s backs.”

Chris nods, before squeezing her shoulders gently again. “Do you want me to go with you?”

She shakes her head before leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got this. Just trust me, okay?” She gets up and heads into the bathroom to grab her toiletries. Chris watches her go, and can’t help his sigh in return.

“I’ll do my best.”

[Next]

V ~ scott/lydia ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 1,993

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

This is likely the weirdest night of Scott’s life.

Strange witches, mysterious targets, complicated locator spells that involve the nematon—nothing about this feels right, like everything is slightly off its axis, and he doesn’t really know how to address it. He glances over at Lydia and Derek, raising an eyebrow like what should they do next and neither of them seems to have the answer.

So, Scott turns to look at the two intruders instead. Freya honestly doesn’t look well, like it has thrown her for a loop more than anyone else, but none of them seem to have any recollection of this mysterious Peter.

“Freya, maybe we should—”

“I am not going back to the hospital.” The blond witch shakes her head, and then stumbles, losing her balance. Hayley and Derek both reach out to catch her, and she takes the support, but shakes her head again. “I’m fine. I just… I need to sleep it off.”

“I can take them back to my place,” Derek offers. Scott looks uncertain of that as well, not understanding why they feel like they should trust them. “I’ll be okay,” Derek continues. “Just for the night. We can regroup in the morning and figure out where to go from there.”

“I’m not leaving Freya,” Hayley points out. “So taking her to your place means inviting me in.”

Derek glances over at her briefly before nodding again. “That’s fine. I can live with that.”

Hayley nods, handing Derek his car keys as she moves to get Freya to the car. Derek gives them both a wave, before nodding. “Come by with breakfast. We’ll figure out next steps.”

Scott nods, waiting with Lydia and Parrish until the car disappears back into the darkness of the preserve. Then Parrish turns to look at both of them. “Am I the only one that feels like they’re more confused?”

“Nope,” Lydia shakes her head. “You’re definitely not alone there.”

“At least there’s that,” Parrish sighs. “I have to get back to my shift. But reach out if you need me?”

“We will.” Scott nods with a smile as the deputy heads back to his cruiser. Soon, it’s Scott and Lydia, alone with the nematon, and he glances to her. “I can find my own way back to the clinic, if you want to go get some sleep.”

Lydia’s brow furrows before shaking her head. “Honestly, I don’t know if sleep is in the cards just yet. But we skipped dinner.”

Scott glances to his watch, seeing that they’re approaching one AM. He’s not sure he wants to go home and sleep either. “I know a diner that’s open all night?”

Lydia smiles, before tipping her head back towards her car. “I’ll drive.”

* * * * *

A couple of hours later, sleep creeps in around the corners. Scott can see how Lydia is drooping, and knows that she should probably get him back to the vet to pick up his bike. The food is good, and the company is better, so he doesn’t want to have to go yet. Eventually, though, she looks at her phone and sigh.

“We should probably try to get that sleep now.”

“Yeah,” Scott nods. “Probably.”

Spending time with her again has been opening up all the parts of him he’s been missing. He’s missed just being intrigued by someone, the first teases of growing attraction that still catches him by surprise, considering how well he’s known Lydia. He’s not sure that he wants to let her go just yet, but they agreed to take things slowly.

“Do you want me to drop you off at the clinic? Or I can take you to your place and we can get your bike after we go to Derek’s?”

Scott hesitates, drumming his fingers against the table. “Would you mind if I came to yours?” Her eyebrows go up, and he holds up a hand. “Not for that. I just… until we know what’s going on, I’m not sure I want to leave you alone.”

Lydia plays with her necklace, considering, before she nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

He smiles, trying not to seem too eager. “Good. Until we figure out who this Peter guy is and how we’re all connected to him, I think it’s safer if we stick together. I’ll sleep on the couch or something.”

Lydia glances over at him softly. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

He feels like he should push back his turn to say what about taking it slow, but there’s also a part of him that doesn’t want to, so for once, he doesn’t argue. He nods and pays the bill before Lydia leads the way out to her car.

By the time they arrive at the Martin house, the house is dark and quiet. Natalie’s car is in the driveway, but she seems to be asleep—which makes sense. It is three AM, after all. Scott follows Lydia inside, taking advantage of his werewolf grace so as not to disturb anything, and soon, they’re enclosed in the safety of Lydia’s room.

He glances around before noticing the window seat and pointing. “Want me to sleep there?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “The bed is big enough, Scott. I’m a big girl. We can handle it.”

Scott nods, and does his best not to argue, only begins pulling off his layers until he’s down to a t-shirt and his boxers, before sliding under the covers next to her.

As the lights go out, Lydia rolls over to face him. “When you think about that name, Peter—do you get this sense of dread?”

Scott hasn’t really thought about it. Lingering too much on this whole in his memory is uncomfortable, true. But he also isn’t sure if dread is the word he’d use either.

“I don’t know. I’ve been trying not to think about it too much.”

“I know it’s an enormous world, but… how could he connect these two people from New Orleans with us?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Scott nods. He reaches forward, cupping her cheek with one hand before leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Whatever it is, we’ll find the answer. We always do.”

“I know we do. I just hope no one else gets hurt.”

Scott nods before Lydia tucks in closer, nestling her head against his shoulder. He closes his eyes in response, relaxing against her pillows, and can’t help but realize how much this feels like home.

* * * * *

The next morning, they arrive at Derek’s with bagels and doughnuts and let themselves in, as per usual. Derek never locks his doors, anyway.

Derek is awake, pouring cups of coffee on top of his counter, gesturing for each of them to take one. “Thanks for bringing food.”

“Of course,” Scott nods as he sets it down. “How’d things go last night?”

“Not much to go off of,” he admits, before nodding toward the exposed bed where a blond head was still sleeping. “Freya passed out as soon as she got here, and Hayley slept not long after her. She’s still concerned about finding her daughter, now that we know the hunters are looking for her specifically.”

“Do we know anything about her daughter?” Lydia asks, just before there’s the sound of footsteps against the spiral staircase.

“She’s Klaus Mikaelson’s daughter,” Hayley points out first, running a hand through her tousled hair. “Which puts a big enough target on her back as it is, but she’s also a tribrid—she has the potential to be a hybrid, with magic when she gets older. That’s put many people’s eyes on her. And she can make hybrids with her blood.” She pauses and gestures to herself. “As you can see. Basically, there are a lot of reasons.”

“Then we should find her,” Scott nods. “And we’ll help. What’s the best way you think we can do that?”

“Freya can’t do a locator spell for her. We cloaked her a long time ago. But from what I can tell from the boots on the ground, she’s not in the Quarter.”

“All we know is that the hunters don’t have her, and Klaus doesn’t have her, and Klaus is also still missing.” Freya rubs at her eyes as she climbs out of bed, pushing to her feet and making her way towards the group for the coffee. “Which isn’t really a lot.”

“Sounds like what you need is boots on the ground. More resources.” Scott leans against the counter with his own coffee. “Maybe we can help?”

Freya tips her head to the side curiously. “How do you mean?”

“We have our own questions about this Peter guy. Who he is and why we were looking for him. So since you can’t use your magic on Hope, maybe you stay here with us, while we lend you some of our people to help find Hope.”

“What people?” Hayley asks, and Derek lifts a hand.

“I’ll go. I’m an excellent tracker.”

“And we have some pack members out on the east coast that we can divert,” Scott nods.

“And we have FBI agents,” Lydia finishes, meaning Stiles and Allison. “That might be useful if we want to use something like an amber alert—or keep hunters from doing the same.”

Hayley’s eyes widen at all the options at her disposal. “We’ll have to arrange for some kind of signal. She’ll lash out at someone she doesn’t trust.”

“We can do that,” Freya nods. “She may be cloaked, but that only really eliminates locator and tracking spells. I can send her a message and she can send one back.”

“Then let’s make that the priority. Finding Hope, and then hopefully finding Klaus after that.” Scott pauses. “No pun intended.”

“Thank you,” Hayley glances at each of them. “You really don’t have to do this.”

“We all have questions we need answering,” Scott nods. “We might as well help each other.”

Freya finishes her coffee before reaching for one doughnut. “Well. If I’m going to be here a while, then I’m going to need some supplies.”

“I can take you after I drop Scott off at the clinic,” Lydia offers. “Technically, I’m on vacation, and shopping is one of my more valued skill sets.”

“You can stay here too,” Derek nods. “Just in case people are looking for you. Mikaelson stands out on hotel registries.”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll do a spell and see what hints Hope can give us, and then you two can head off back towards New Orleans.” Freya tears into her doughnut before looking back at all of them with a smirk. “I’m sure nothing about this will go wrong at all.”

Scott can’t help but feel like her sarcasm might be accurate.

* * * * *

As they pull up at the clinic to drop off Scott, Stiles’ baby blue Jeep is already sitting in the parking lot. Scott raises an eyebrow and glances at Lydia curiously.

“I texted Allison in advance. She said that she and Stiles would meet us here.”

“Right,” Scott nods, as he and Freya moved to climb out of the car. They make their way around, but before they can get to the door, Scott hears the creak of something moving in the Jeep. His head tips to the side in confusion and he turns back.

Lydia frowns. “What is it?”

“I thought I heard something.”

He slowly makes his way closer, and as he reaches the door, two heads pop up, looking rumpled, caught in a moment they shouldn’t have. Lips swollen, clothes rumpled, and Stiles looks awkwardly at his best friend.

“Uh. Hi, guys.”

Allison runs a hand through her hair. “Sorry. We didn’t realize you were here.”

Freya glances between the four locals curiously before smirking. “Well. This should be entertaining.”

Allison and Stiles’ heads snap towards Freya, and Stiles raises an eyebrow. “Sorry. Who the hell are you?”

[Next.]

W ~ hayley/klaus ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 1,994

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

Hayley returns home from the bayou to find her family’s home in shambles.

This isn’t an odd occurrence for the Abattoir. Klaus and Elijah start fights with each other regularly, and the furniture is often the casualty. But last she checked, Elijah is off in Europe with Antoinette and Kol has not been in town for a while either.

And yet, the furniture of the courtyard is shattered.

“Klaus?”

She tries her best to keep the tremor out of her voice, honing her hearing to see if she can find the familiar sound of her soulmate’s heartbeat, or that of her daughter’s. It doesn’t help matters as the house is unsettlingly quiet, and it leaves her wondering if there are heartbeats to be found.

“Freya? Hope?”

Her feet thunder on the stairs and soon, she catches it—a heart that’s struggling but beating. With a burst of hybrid speed, she finds herself at her sister-in-law’s door, where Freya is feverishly working on some kind of spell. She seems crazed, out of her mind, and Hayley smells the blood before she sees the growing wound on her side.

“Freya.”

The blond’s head snaps up at the sound of her name, and when she recognizes Hayley, the relief causes her to stumble. Hayley is at her side in a flash, reaching for her elbow to support her.

“What happened?”

“We were attacked.”

“I noticed. Where are Hope and Klaus?”

“Safe,” Freya leans into Hayley’s firm stance. “I need you to come with me.”

“You are going nowhere but to the nearest vampire.” Hayley lifts her wrist to her mouth to bite, but Freya stops her before she can break the skin.

“No. You’ll disrupt the balance of the spell.”

“What spell? Freya, what are you doing?”

“It’s a one-way ticket, but it’s what we need to do.” She reaches for a handful of dust and raises it over the bowl. “We have to go see an alpha about his sire.”

“Alpha? Which alpha?”

“Scott McCall.” Freya grips Hayley’s arm tightly. “Hang on. This is going to be a doozy.”

Then, the powder hits the rest of the ingredients, and Hayley has no more room to protest.

* * * * *

Hayley never set out, intending to become part of the Mikaelson family. She never set out to be part of anything, if she’s truly honest. Taking back her parents’ power from the Guerraras, taking control of the pack in the bayou, finding her soulmate in Klaus Mikaelson—all of them were things meant for another woman, not the teenager that she was when this all began.

But it’s how she finds herself in Beacon Hills Memorial, waiting by Freya’s hospital bed, unsure how much to tell this alpha who’s territory Freya magically slammed her into. She would have felt better about things if Freya had been conscious to explain herself, but beggars can’t be choosers, and Hayley is very much in the beggar column for the moment.

She glances down at her phone again, looking at the string of texts to Klaus, questioning the safety of himself, their daughter. Her world is still in color, so for now he’s fine, but who knows how much longer fine is going to last with an unknown enemy out wandering the streets of New Orleans. She has the witches and the wolves on high alert, reached out to Marcel and the other vampires—something is wrong.

She just doesn’t know how to articulate it.

Scott lightly knocks on the door before he opens it again, meeting the eyes of the other woman in a way that only an alpha can. She knows that there’s obviously something wrong with her wolf to the nose of other wolves, but alpha will always trump that. Still, the uncomfortable look remains on his face as he, his banshee friend (Lydia), and another werewolf make their way into the room. The second wolf is tall and broody, with light eyes, but a familiar inquisitive expression that she’s only seen on one other person.

It’s slightly less irritating on this one.

“You must be Derek,” she says as she gets to her feet to extend a hand. “You and Peter have the same ‘You’re interesting and I’m confused’ face.”

Derek snorts before nodding as he shakes her hand. “And you’re Hayley Marshall.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to us?” Lydia asks.

“There’s a pack in the bayou of New Orleans that was run by the LaBonairs. We thought they died years ago in a pack war, but Hayley surfaced a few years back as their lost heir.”

“Really? Like Anastasia?” Scott asks, curious. “Sorry, I’m still learning my way around all the North American alphas.”

“You know, of all the comparisons I’ve gotten over the years, it’s never been that one.” Hayley smirks. “And don’t worry about it. I’m still learning my way around, too. I may have been born into it, but I spent a lot of my young life living in the human world. And it’s a pretty steep learning curve.”

“Especially for an alpha that later became a hybrid.” Derek replies, and Hayley shrugs.

“I died giving birth to my daughter. It was hybrid, or not see her grow up.” And given that she’s surrounded by vampires on all angles, it wasn’t an odd life choice by any means. “My pack was okay with it. That’s the only opinion that matters to me.”

“Hey, we’re not here to judge you. Or your friend.” Scott nods to the woman in the bed next to them. “But when you show up here, asking questions about finding Peter Hale…”

“Look, I know he’s considered questionable company in most places, but Peter helped us in the past. He and my family are… close.”

Derek’s brow furrows. “Close how?”

Hayley presses her lips together, because she’s not sure she should spill Freya’s secrets, let alone Peter. Mikaelsons get touchy about soulmates, for good reason. “Look, I wish I had more information for you. All I know is that I got home and my house was in shambles, blood was everywhere, and Freya hijacked me for a cross-country magic trip I didn’t ask for saying something about seeing an alpha about his sire.”

This time, it’s Scott’s turn to look uncomfortable. “I don’t know where Peter is. I haven’t seen him in months. He comes to town once in a while to check on his daughter, but beyond that, he’s not really one to stick around Beacon Hills.”

“We didn’t come here to see if you’d seen him.”

The voice is raspy, like pieces of sandpaper rubbing together, and Hayley immediately turns towards the sound. “Freya. Easy. You’re in the hospital.”

“I noticed.” She quips dryly, before turning her attention back to Scott, Derek and Lydia. “Peter was taken. I need your help to find him.”

Scott blinks. “If someone took him from New Orleans, why did you come here?”

“I needed things that were his. Things he created.” Her eyes land on Scott and Lydia. “Things that he still cares for.”

Hayley presses her lips together as frustration rises. As much as she loves her family, sometimes she wishes they would learn to communicate. “Are you telling me you kidnapped me to Beacon Hills so that you could pick up ingredients for a locator spell?”

Freya looks over at her apologetically. “It could be worse?”

Hayley grits her teeth, before turning and heading towards the door. “You all figure this out. I’m getting some air.”

* * * * *

Hayley leaves quickly before any of them can stop her, wandering out into the parking lot and taking a deep breath of the incredibly unfamiliar air. She can’t help but shake the feeling that she shouldn’t be here. That there are more important places for her to be. Her phone buzzes with updates from the various faction leaders in New Orleans, all of which tell her nothing, and that worry only mounts in the tension that she carries in her chest and shoulders.

She needs to know that her mate is okay. She needs to know that her daughter is okay. And for the moment, no one can tell her that.

“Your sister-in-law is a character.”

Hayley glances back over her shoulder at the surprise voice and smirks when she sees Derek standing there. “Be careful what you say about her. She might be your aunt one day.”

Derek’s face explodes in surprise, briefly, before turning back towards the hospital. “Seriously?”

“Oh yeah,” Hayley nods. “That’s what Peter was doing in New Orleans with us. They’ve been trying to… figure things out.” It’s been an interesting push and pull, with neither of them wanting to give any more than they have to, but somehow growing closer.

Derek shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have thought he was capable of that anymore.”

“I think they designed this whole soulmate thing to smack you in the face and make you regret all your choices,” Hayley sighs. “I mean, case in point.” She gestures to herself. “You think if I could choose for myself, I would have chosen Klaus Mikaelson, of all people?”

“My mom used to say that soulmates are always a choice.” Derek comments. “It’s just your brain trying to figure out something your heart already knows.”

“Maybe. I mean, it definitely didn’t recognize Klaus as mine right away. But… the longer we spent together, fighting together, raising Hope—we figured it out.” Hayley glances down at her phone again. “And now I do not know where they are.”

Derek nods, sliding his hands in his pockets. “If we can help, we will. Scott’s a good guy.”

“So I’ve heard.” Hayley sighs. “I just feel like I should be back there, looking for them. Not here, babysitting Freya.”

“Has the color bled from your vision yet?”

Hayley shakes her head. “Not yet.”

“Then wherever they are, they’re okay.” Derek places a hand on her shoulder gently and gives it a squeeze. “Hold on to that, while you do what you need to do here.”

Her phone buzzes in her hand again, and she jumps at the text message. Hope flutters briefly, but fades just as easily when she sees its Marcel, not Klaus.

We’ll find them, Hayley.

She stares at the words and knows, no matter what, Marcel will find them. He has as much of a stake in this as she does. Pulling her phone close, she swallows and nods, before looking up at Derek again.

“We’ll find your uncle, too. I know she doesn’t seem like much, but Freya is relentless when it comes to the things she cares about.”

Derek smirks in return. “This is going to be an interesting family reunion, isn’t it?”

Hayley smirks as she leads the way back into the hospital. “Oh, you have no idea.”

* * * * *

They return to Freya’s hospital room and the witch is already making a problem of herself, trying to disconnect herself from all the various tubes. Hayley takes a breath, before reaching forward and taking her hands to stop her.

“Freya, stop.”

“I’m useless here. I need to get the ingredients I need so we can start the spell.”

“Yeah, and you almost died of blood loss. Peter can wait.” Hayley tips her head to the side. “Unless Peter can’t wait?”

Freya purses her lips together before slumping back in the bed. Scott and Lydia look between them curiously, trying to make out the meaning behind this half conversation.

“I have to ask.” Lydia holds up a finger as she glances between them. “Why do you care so much about Peter Hale?”

Freya looks at Hayley, and Hayley looks back at her. “Do you want to tell her, or should I?”

Freya huffs before turning to face Lydia again. “Peter Hale is my soulmate.”

Lydia stares back at her in return before closing her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

[Next.]

X ~ derek/caroline ~ teen wolf/tvdverse ~ 2,156

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous.]

Derek Hale has never really believed in soulmates.

It’s not that he doesn’t believe they exist. His vision has been in gray-scale for so long he can barely conjure the image of his sister in color, let alone the family he lost. He knows that this means he hasn’t found the person who’s his theoretical soulmate, but it’s kind of for the best.

Given his past romantic choices in life, odds are no one wants him to find his actual soulmate. She might be the one to kill him.

Who needs the drama? He may not have been part of the soulmate conversations as of late, but he knows that it’s created a complicated emotional knot that he doesn’t want to have any part in unwrangling. Though the bubble bursts when Stiles plops down in the seat next to him on the plane.

“So where is Cora these days?”

“She and Malia have been scoping things out on the east coast with Isaac. Last we talked, she was in Philadelphia, but she was heading down to this Virginia town called Mystic Falls to pick up Malia. I told her to wait there until we know more—no point in her coming all the way to New Orleans if we need her somewhere else.”

“Makes sense.” Stiles fiddles with his phone for a minute, before looking over to glimpse Hayley. “So what do you make of these NOLA folks?”

Derek shrugs. “They seem fine. I don’t think we should invite them to pack cookouts soon, but we can work with them to protect a seven-year-old girl.”

“Fair enough.” A beat. “You sure the name Peter means nothing to you?”

Derek raises his eyebrows. “If I did, don’t you think I would have said something?”

“Did it mean anything to Cora and Malia?”

Derek shakes his head again. “Nothing.”

“Huh. Weird.” Stiles drums his finger against his thigh. “Well. Wake me up when we get to New Orleans?”

Derek’s eyebrows raise, surprised that he might actually get quiet time with Stiles sitting next to him. He almost doesn’t want to question it, but he can’t help himself. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Stiles shrugs. “I’m exhausted, dude. And I’m also literally only sitting here so that Hayley doesn’t seduce you and then try to kill us before the flight is over.”

Derek rolls his eyes. From a few rows ahead, he can see Hayley smirk, before looking over at him with a raised eyebrow. Derek shakes his head. “Go to sleep, Stiles.”

“You can’t say there isn’t a precedent.” Derek turns a stern glare on the younger man, and Stiles nods. “Yep. Going to sleep.”

This is going to be a long trip.

* * * * *

New Orleans is a town he’s always wanted to visit, but knew it would never be safe for him to do so. Now he has an escort of one of the scariest people in town, and he doesn’t really know what to expect. But Hayley drives him and Stiles straight through to the heart of the French Quarter to a bar called Rosseau’s, and they walk in to a summit already happening.

A tall, dark-skinned man looks up from the center table, showing that he’s the one running the show. He relaxes when he sees Hayley, however, and nods to her. “Who’s your friends?”

“Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, meet Marcel Gerard.”

“Hale, huh?” Marcel raises an eyebrow. “Thought there weren’t many of you left.”

“There’s not. But your friend dropped right into the middle of Beacon Hills, so she’s bound to find one.”

“Do we have any news?” Hayley asks, trying to get things back on track. Marcel shakes his head.

“We’ve searched every inch of the Quarter. No sign of Hope. It doesn’t seem like anyone stashed her in the bayou either.”

Hayley’s shoulders slump. “She has to be somewhere.”

“We’ll find her, Hayley. Cami’s been on the phone with all our allies, trying to figure out who whoever hid her could have reached out to. But what we know is whoever hit us doesn’t have her.”

“But whoever hit us has Klaus.” All three of them turn as a fair-haired young woman storms through the room, a determined look on her face as she heads directly for Hayley. “Davina and Vincent got the witches on a locator spell, and they had him heading towards Atlanta before they found someone to cloak him and made him disappear, but we know where he went.”

The woman stops and wraps her arms around Hayley, and Hayley returns the hug tightly in return. “Thank you for looking,” Hayley murmurs as she squeezes her friend tightly. As the hug breaks, she turns to the fresh faces. “Cami, Derek and Stiles. Derek and Stiles, Cami O’Connell.”

“Nice to meet you,” Stiles nods, extending a hand, and Cami shakes it. “And magical fail safes aside, we have an amber alert out for a child matching Hope’s description, so hopefully someone will see her and report it.”

“Good. That’s good to hear.” Cami gives Hayley’s shoulder a squeeze. “But we should get some rest for now. Why don’t I pour everyone some drinks?”

Derek can tell that Hayley isn’t particularly interested in sitting still, but there’s not much they can do from here—at least not until they have a lead to work on. He watches as the rest of the group disperses and Stiles steps out to take a call from Allison, before moving to stand next to Hayley.

“If you want to go search yourself, I’ll go with you.”

Hayley looks gratefully at the offer, but she shakes her head. “I appreciate it, but they’re right. I trust my people, and if they say they overturned every stone, they overturned every stone.”

Derek nods. If that’s what she wants, he won’t contradict her. He’ll just wait and see what happens as things change. He excuses himself to go text his sister.

Stepping outside into the foggy, humid air, he can’t help but take a breath, intrigued by the idea of being somewhere new. He lets his eyes wander the little details of the architecture, the stone streets, the atmosphere of vibrance and excitement. He wishes he had the time to explore every little detail and dig into the history that lives in these streets, but that will have to be a trip for a later time.

Now, they needed to help Hayley find her mate and her daughter.

He sends off a quick text to his sister, thinking about maybe seeing if he’ll have time to take a walk when Stiles’ hand comes down on his shoulder.

“Hold on, Ally, I’ve got Derek. Say that again?”

“We think the Peter that we’re looking for might be Derek’s uncle, Peter Hale.”

Derek blinks at that information. “I don’t have an uncle. My mother was an only child.”

“According to town records, you did.”

“I think I would have remembered if I had an uncle, Allison.”

“So who’s Malia’s father?”

That simple question he should be able to answer grinds his brain to a halt. The name is on the tip of his tongue. The answer is there. He simply needs to reach out and grasp it. But in the end, it doesn’t come.

“I don’t know.”

“Who was the alpha who killed Laura?”

That question, while softer than the first, still is a stab of pain that he isn’t expecting. Because again, he should know the answer, but it just won’t come. “I don’t know.” Derek rubs at his eyes. “You think he might be the same person?”

“That’s the theory.” Allison sighs. “It’s a big hole that would make sense to fill with one person. The alpha who bit Scott and Lydia, the person who killed Kate, Malia’s father, it all matches up.”

Derek leans back against the wall and rubs his eyes. Nothing about the past few days has made sense. “How could I have just forgotten a member of my family like that?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out. Freya thinks there might be magic involved, so she’s on it, but we’ll keep you posted with what we find.”

“Yeah, we’ll do the same. Thanks, Allison.” Stiles hangs up and Derek can feel his eyes on him, trying to gauge his reaction. “You okay, big guy?”

“I’m not sure.” Derek grits his teeth. “I don’t like my memory being messed with.”

“Hey, none of us do. Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out.” Stiles squeezes his shoulder, before tipping his head back towards the bar. “C’mon. I’m starving, and we should fill Hayley in.”

Derek nods, and turns to follow Stiles back into the bar, but he still can’t help feeling like a bus has hit him.

* * * * *

Hayley takes them back to the Abattoir after dinner, after the rest of the party called it a break for the night. She leads the way into the still trashed courtyard, before sighing, looking at the mess. “If you guys just want to grab a room and crash, go for it.”

“Are you sure? We can help you clean up,” Derek replies, observing her.

Hayley shrugs. “You’re welcome to. Just be aware it might get worse before it gets better.”

Stiles smirks. “Hey, rage rooms are a viable business for a reason.” He’s about to continue with his smartass comments before the two wolves pick up the sound of footsteps on the floor above. Both of them turn, braced for a fight and, as the person in question appears, Derek feels like a truck hit him for the second time that evening.

It would make sense that the universe would want to ensure zero questions about who his soulmate may be. The second her hand grips the railing, she comes alive in a shower of color. Blond hair, light eyes, pale skin, dressed in jewel tones and dark jeans. She has a determined look on her face. He has no idea who she is, but her appearance is a punch to the gut he isn’t expecting.

“Where the hell have you—” The question fades the second she meets Derek’s eyes, likely for the same reason. Surprise replaces annoyance and her voice turns soft. “—Oh.”

“Sorry,” Stiles interrupts. “Who are you?”

“Caroline, what are you doing here?” Hayley asks, superseding Stiles’ question.

“I got a text from someone named Peter. I have no idea who he is, but he’s saved in my phone, so I guess I know him? Somehow? It says that Klaus is in trouble.” She turns to make her way to the stairs, just continuing to rant as she goes. “So I drove out here to figure out what was going on, and I see this—” She gestures to the surrounding mess. “—With no one home so I’m understandably freaking out a little.”

Caroline comes to a stop in front of Hayley, and she tries to keep her focus there, but her eyes keep straying over to Derek, not really sure what to make of him. Hayley doesn’t notice, but unfortunately Stiles does. He straightens, eyes glancing between the two of them, trying to solve the puzzle he doesn’t have all the pieces for.

So he opts to ask the more relevant question instead. “So you know have the mysterious Peter in your backstory too?”

Caroline glances between the two men. “You know Peter?”

“We’re supposed to, but we don’t. Apparently he’s Derek’s uncle.” Stiles points across the way to Derek before placing a hand against his chest. “I’m Stiles, by the way. Since we’re not doing introductions.”

Caroline nods, before turning to meet Derek’s eyes again. “Derek.” She swallows before offering a small smile. “Caroline.”

Stiles’ eyes narrow even further. “I’m sorry, is something happening here?”

Derek knows he needs to cut this off at the pass. He can’t deal with Stiles knowing about this before he even figures out how he feels about it beyond terrified. “No.” He snaps, flashing Stiles a look, but apparently defensiveness was the wrong option. It immediately puts Stiles on high alert.

“Yes, there is. And it’s not just the weird Peter thing, it started before that.” It doesn’t take long before the dots connect and his eyes widen. “Holy shit, is she your soulmate?”

Caroline’s cheeks turn red. Derek can feel the heat burning on his own. Hayley’s eyes went wide as she glances between the two of them. “Seriously?”

“Nope. Nope.” Stiles storms over, pushing himself between Derek and Caroline and grabbing Derek’s arm. “You’re not going anywhere near him until I’ve run a thorough background check through several major agencies.”

The two women stare dumbfounded as Stiles drags Derek away, unable to find the will to stop Stiles for the moment. All he can do is try to wrap his head around all of this and make it make sense.

It’s been a weird few days.

[Next.]

Y ~ freya/peter ~ tvdverse/teen wolf ~ 2,617

[iluvroadrunner6]

[Previous]

Peter keeps replaying the scene repeatedly in his mind.

How Freya looked at him when she laid eyes on him. The recognition followed by curiosity and intrigue, but not genuine warmth or understanding. Every word spent sizing him up and trying to figure out where he fit into her life, because Malivore has swept it all away. Each word out of her mouth is overanalyzed, trying to read into the meaning behind them. It’s all the reasons he didn’t want a soulmate in the first place, never mind the fact that he never knew he could be erased from someone’s memory like that.

Then again, there is the advantage that Allison and Derek aren’t bucking so much in dealing with him. They have their own problems to deal with. And in the end, he trusts Freya. He’s just not sure if it’s foolhardy to place that trust in her when she’s starting over from square one, and he’s still caught in the middle.

He pushes all of this to the side as best he can and focuses on the matter at hand. The sooner they get out of here, the sooner Freya can place him back into everyone’s memories and while it may be a shock for some people, he’d much rather be meeting everyone on the same page rather than prey on what they may or may not remember.

Maybe they really all are works in progress.

“So,” he comments, attempting to distract himself from the swirling thoughts in his mind. “How do we get out?”

“Haven’t quite figured that one out yet.” Freya is sitting cross-legged on the ground, clearly trying to focus. “From what I can tell from the magic, this isn’t just some kind of pit. It’s… a living creature, almost. It has a consciousness. A presence.”

“If it has a consciousness, does that mean we can reason with it?” Allison asks, adjusting her vest as she listens to Freya speak. He really doesn’t give Allison enough credit. Or maybe it’s just the fact that she’s matured from the reckless teenager she was, pinned under the thumb of her family. Either way, it’s a good question, and one he’s surprised he didn’t think of first.

“Maybe?” Freya shrugs. “We would have to figure out how it communicates. Or if we can even communicate with it from within it.”

“I have a feeling it won’t let us go without wanting something in return,” Derek points out. “Otherwise, there would be a lot fewer people trapped in here.”

“He has a point,” Peter agreed. “And whatever it is, it seems he doesn’t want to talk.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not an option on the table,” Freya points out. “Upside, however long we stay here, I’m learning about the magic that holds it together. There are parts of it that are familiar.”

“How do you mean?”

“Witch magic built it, but they didn’t build it alone. There are hints of werewolf in it too. Maybe even vampire.” She frowns at the suggestion before shaking her head. “I’ll need to do research.”

“Well, there’ll be plenty of time for that once we get out of here,” Peter sighs. “Whenever that is.”

“There’s a chance it could be sooner than you think.”

All four faces snap towards the unfamiliar voice. Standing in front of them is a tall young man, with brown curly hair and an almost dummy expression, like they have carved him out of clay to look like a passable human rather than actually birthed of one. He smiles, and Peter straightens, his claws extending from his hands as the obvious threat they are. Derek does the same, and the man holds up his hands to assuage the pair of werewolves.

“Relax. I mean you know harm.” He pauses. “My name is Ryan Clarke. I’m here to bargain.”

“Bargain with what, exactly?” Freya asks.

“Your way out of here.” Ryan tips his head to the side. “If that’s still something you want.”

“How?” Peter demands, ready to be free.

“I’m here on behalf of my father, Malivore.” Ryan turns and looks at each of them. “He’s willing to release the four of you, and in exchange, you do something for him.”

“What is Malivore, exactly?” Allison asks, pushing aside the idea of the bargain for the moment. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Ryan glances between the four of them before gesturing to the darkness. “This is Malivore. Almost a thousand years ago, monsters and creatures roamed the countryside, terrorizing the surrounding people. In exchange for keeping the humans safe, a witch, a vampire and a werewolf teamed up to cast a spell, creating a mud creature they called Malivore. Bound in their service, he consumed all the problematic creatures, and once consumed, the world forgot them at large. Malivore used to have legs than. Mobility. But soon, he consumed everything in his path, until it was clear that his hunger could not be quenched. As a result, those that created him crippled his legs, turning him into a pit that was much more manageable.”

“How did Triad get hold of it?”

“Triad found it, built its organization around it, began using my father for their own selfish ends. But to those ends, Malivore planned. He released a failsafe out into the world—several items that would counter the witch’s spell and a vessel for him to take his true form and be among the humans again, but this time far less conspicuous. Now is not the time for his rising, but he would prefer all the ingredients be at hand.”

“And what ingredients are those?” Allison still doesn’t seem convinced, but Peter is already ready to take the deal, no matter what the cost.

“A knife, an urn, and a dagger. And the vessel—the vessel is very important. He’s a seven-year-old boy named Landon.”

Peter grimaces the moment he says it, because he knows this plan has stalled just as easily as it started.

“Absolutely not,” Allison shakes her head.

Ryan tips his head to the side. “I assure you, the child will be perfectly safe until he comes of age. He has to agree to become the vessel of Malivore.”

“Right, so you’re just going to brainwash him from a young age, so he more easily says yes.” Allison shakes her head. “Definitely not. Find someone else to do your dirty work.”

Peter’s eyes dart from Allison to Derek, who looks conflicted, but he knows his nephew. He’ll wind up on Allison’s side of the line, eventually. He then glances to Freya, who seems equally conflicted but might hedge more towards his side. Taking advantage of a child, true—there is little worse than that. But it’s not his child, not his pack. Not Hope. Therefore, it’s not his problem.

“If you’re worried about someone missing him, they won’t. He’s in foster care currently, with not great parents. We’ll take much better care of him here.”

“Not improving your case,” Allison replies.

“Allison,” Peter states thinly, looking back at her. “Can we discuss this as a group?”

Allison turns on him, eyes wide, surprised. If she remembered him, she probably wouldn’t be. But now she’s gaining the shape of the man he is, and she almost seems disappointed. “No. I don’t think we need to discuss anything. We’ll find another way out.”

Ryan glances between the group, trying to assess where things are landing, before he smirks, almost as though he knows a secret that they don’t. “Right. Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Good luck on finding that other way out, though.”

And with that, he disappears into the darkness.

Peter snarls, turning on Allison with a glare. “That was our best option.”

“Our best option involves selling a child into supernatural slavery?” Allison turns that self-righteous Argent air on him. More and more every day, she’s turning into her father. It’s possible it could have been worse. She could have turned into Gerard. “Is that really an option at all, Peter?”

“It’s not our child,” Peter points out. “Why should we care? And from the looks of things, it seems like he’s not actually a child at all. He’s just another piece of this messed up prison.”

“That doesn’t matter. He’s still a kid. I will not agree to be a part of something like that. We should try to save him, not condemn him.”

“But we can’t do that here, can we?” Freya points out, and he smirks.

“At least someone here has some common sense,” Peter grits his teeth. “We can’t do anything here. At all. We are going to waste away here into nothingness while the rest of the world forgets we ever existed and you want to what? Continue to suffer on principle?”

Allison looks away from him, and he can sense that some of that struck a cord. Her hands curl into fists and he sees her step forward, but Derek catches her arm before she can go too far.

“Let’s take a walk, okay?”

Freya had come up with a better binding spell, something like a radar ping in their brain whenever they’re close to each other. Neither Peter nor Freya argue when the two of them step away to get some breathing room.

Good riddance, as far as Peter is concerned.

* * * * *

“You know she’s not entirely wrong, don’t you?”

Peter turns and glances back to Freya before tipping his head to the side curiously. “You mean do I think she has some moral high ground she can’t seem to climb off of?”

The blond witch pushes to her feet, moving to close the space between them. “We can’t just sacrifice things we don’t care about in order to get what we want. That’s not exactly the recipe for being a good person.”

“Last I checked, neither you nor I were all that concerned with whether they viewed us as good people.”

“Maybe.” She reaches over and takes his hand, and he lets her. He knows she’s still processing through all the feelings and questions he accepted a long time ago. And he’s become quite accustomed to her touch. “But in my experience, I try not to favor the living over the dead.”

“We’re not dead.”

“Aren’t we?” she asks, tipping her head to the side curiously. “Even if we get out of here, I’m not sure how to get the rest of the world to remember us again, aside from Hope. Is living half a life enough of a reason to ruin a child’s?”

“Yes.” Peter states firmly, his own self-interest crawling to the surface again. He steps forward and cups her face in his hands, pulling her in closer. “Because I know you can fix this. You are one of the most powerful witches I’ve ever met, and if anyone can fix this, can put me back into her own memory, into my daughter’s memory—if anyone can make me real in the world again, it’s you. But you’ve said it yourself, you can’t do it here.”

Freya tips her head back before shaking her head. “I can’t ruin another child’s life. I’ve already done that enough.”

“Then let me do it for the both of us. I want my life back.” He turns and points to the wake of the two other members of their party. “I’m sure they have soulmates out there that they want to get back to. Let me do the dirty work.” That’s what he’s good for, after all.

In fact, maybe he won’t have to, and they’ll be able to break this deal once they’re free. But he doesn’t say that out loud, in case other ears are listening.

Freya swallows, her mind weighing the options. She doesn’t want to agree to this—he knows it. But she also knows he isn’t wrong. She steps back, giving his hands a squeeze, before washing her hands of the situation.

“Do what you have to do, Peter.”

And for now, that’s good enough for him.

* * * * *

Peter spends a good amount of time wandering the darkness until he comes across Ryan again. He doesn’t appreciate the smugness of the man, but he can’t say it isn’t earned. It’s hard not to be smug when your father is the warden of an inescapable prison. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he takes a step forward and tries to make his approach as casually as possible.

“So. This deal of yours.”

Ryan tips his head to the side. “I should have known you would be the one to take the out.”

“Hold on,” Peter points out, holding up a finger. “I want to make a deal for all of us.”

“I don’t recall our deal being up for negotiation.”

“But you didn’t say that it wasn’t.” Peter tips his head to the side. “And I want to set the terms.”

“You have the terms. I set you free. You bring me the four things I asked for.”

“Wouldn’t it be faster if you had four people working on it?”

“It would, but Ms. Argent made it very clear that she wasn’t looking to negotiate or accept the terms as they stood. Now, you could leave without her, as long as anyone else who wants to make the leap, but they have to agree to the terms.”

Peter grits his teeth, trying to do at least one right thing in all of this. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to think. “How will you know that we’re doing as we’re told? I’m assuming that finding these things will take time.”

“Possibly, depending where his creators buried them. But we have ways of keeping you properly motivated. A… compulsion, so to speak.”

“So, in theory, you could put a compulsion on each of us for one item. Put the vessel on me. I’ll deal with the child while they take the parts of the bargain that are more… acceptable.”

Ryan pauses, considering the werewolf curiously. “You really don’t mind getting your hands dirty, do you?”

Peter shrugs. “I got them dirty a long time ago. What’s the point of trying to go back on a line you’ve already crossed?”

“Does the rest of the group know you’re here negotiating for them?”

“One does.” Peter tips his head to the side. “The rest are wrestling with their moralizing, but I will not leave without them, so what will it be? A person willing to turn over a child to you, or a much longer wait, while the child becomes less and less malleable?”

Ryan’s about to reply with a comment that is likely snarky, before his head tips to the side, almost as though he’s listening for something. Then, his face sobers, and he nods. “Malivore finds your deal acceptable.”

Peter’s chest sags as he breathes a sigh of relief. “Good.”

A bright light appears above him, and Ryan gives him a known smirk. “Good luck. But remember—my father will get what he wants, eventually.”

Before Peter can comment, he’s pulled off his feet and sucked into the ether.

* * * * *

When he comes to, he’s lying on the same concrete block they had thrown him in on. Lying next to him are Derek and Freya, with Allison across the way. Breathing a sigh of relief, he slowly pushes himself up to his feet as the rest of them stir around him.

Allison shoots up suddenly, eyes scanning the room and recognizing it, before turning to Peter with wide eyes. “What did you do?”

Peter looks at her in return, jaw set. “What you wouldn’t.”

[Next.]