theresalwayshope | June 2, 2014 - the saints can't help me now (locked to Derek Hale)

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June 2, 2014 - the saints can't help me now (locked to Derek Hale)

Allison was crouched in an alley, blood on her hands for the second time in at least two weeks...and this time, she was well and truly terrified.

Somewhere during the chaos of the storm, the sudden onslaught of noise and scent and violence, she'd lost track of her surroundings as she ran away, far away, as far as her new strength and speed could carry her. She could have found her way...a tilt of her head, a flare of her nostrils, even now she was certain of the trail she could follow to go home or go someplace where she could hunt...but she couldn't move. She couldn't allow herself to move.

In the dark, a rat was skittering through some trash. Bugs crawled, moths fluttered...in the distance, people talked, milled, shrieked. They were all right there, right in front of her, in her lungs and in her ears...

Prey.

Shutting her eyes tight...gold eyes, she'd checked, that meant she hadn't killed the passerby she'd attacked once she had changed...Allison balled herself up tighter as the urges clawed at her insides, hot and angry. The blood on her hands wasn't enough, and the claws that tipped each finger wouldn't go away. The fangs that filled her mouth were sharp and hungry, and the other changes...

She'd already seen the monster in a car window when she'd looked into her own eyes, already knowing, but needing to be sure she wasn't without hope. If she could hide, if she could stay still, if she could shrink up small and cold enough that nobody would find her, maybe she wouldn't kill anyone.

A scent touched her nose. It could have been right there, the smell of something...

Food. Prey. Her mind, her instincts couldn't tell the difference between the people on the street and the smell of some distant meal cooking in a small, warm home filled with light and people...bodies, meat, quarry waiting to be taken. She didn't know how to shut it off.

The whimper that ripped from her throat wasn't human as she pressed her head to her knees, balling up tighter still. The urge to move was strong, overpowering. She wanted to run, she wanted to hunt...

She wanted her pack.

Only then did she remember Scott's roar. The human part of her mind, the rational part she feared even more than the wolf that had been shoved into her skin without permission, remembered his roar, and what it had done to Isaac, to Malia. It ripped the beast out of Isaac, but they saved Malia.

Not Scott.

All at once, the urge to run stilled inside her. Instead, the instinct seemed to settle in her chest, gathering in a knot that made it hard to breathe. The wolf knew what to do, the wolf knew how to help.

The wolf...the thing she was so terrified of...could save her.

Uncurling just a little, Allison tipped her head up towards the sky. She caught the scent of people again, people and prey, but she could stand it. A little longer, she could resist it.

The knot in her chest shattered like glass as Allison threw her head back and howled for her Alpha.

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Derek found it hard to rouse himself from bed for his early morning run with Stiles soft and warm at his side. They don't always sleep in the same bed, but it's become something almost like normal recently. Derek likes it, sleeps better with Stiles' warm skin against his own, but he rarely asks Stiles to join him in his room. More often than not, Stiles just falls asleep next to him after they've exhausted themselves, and Derek drifts off with a possessive hand curled around his hip.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed as he pulls on his shoes, head tilted as he takes in Stiles' position and wonders how it could possibly be comfortable. Stiles can fall asleep wherever he happens to get tired, and Derek's more than a little envious. He leans over to press a kiss between Stiles' bare shoulder blades and then leaves the room. He's halfway across the living room when he hears it.

At first, he thinks that he's imagining things. But it would be hard to make up the shiver that goes through his bones at the howl, the way his blood sings at the sound of a beta calling out for its alpha. For him. But Derek doesn't have betas here, aside from Stiles who is both not a wolf and sleeping safely twenty feet away. But he hears it all the same, lets it rattle through him as he stands alert, head whipping in the direction of the sound.

And then, he runs. He doesn't even know who it is. The thought crosses his mind that one of his betas could have shown up here, scared and confused, but he knows them instinctively. Whoever is howling for him, Derek did not create. But they're his all the same, and he howls back in reassurance as soon as he's outside the building.

He runs down the street faster than humanly possible, feet barely hitting the ground before he's springing off again. Soon, he's close enough to catch the scent. It's vaguely familiar, under the stench of fear and blood, and he skids to a halt at the edge of an alley.

His eyes are red as he snaps his head over to the side and on the huddled figure, trembling under a layer of dirt and blood. Derek doesn't realize how his chest is heaving, eyes flaring brighter, but he can feel the power fizzing in his veins, power brought on but a new beta tying their allegiance to him. It's a heady feeling, but it doesn't overshadow the confusion that he feels when he finally pushes the wolf aside to recognize who it is crouched down in front of him. Once it comes to him, he sucks in a sharp breath and drops into a squat, mouth slack with disbelief.

"Allison?"

Allison stayed as still as she could, trembling, waiting, fighting. She let her imagination run free, imagined every possible instance of running wild through the streets, wind in her hair, blood hot on her hands and flesh greedily tearing under her fangs. It would be easy, she knew how to kill. That was why she couldn't move, couldn't breathe wrong until he found her, until he stopped her.

When the answering howl came, it shook her bones, the way a true howl always did, only this time she understood it in a way she never had. It was power and comfort and strength, it was the cage she needed, the protection the world needed from her.

Pack.

The wolf wanted to run to it, to meet her Alpha, but Allison stayed put.

He would find her.

Pack.

He would help her.

Pack. Run, hunt, feed pack run...

She knew him when his scent touched the air, when she breathed in and laid over rats and people and prey there was pack. Terror gripped her so tight she couldn't breathe when she had risen to a crouch with no memory of moving, ready to run, spring, strike...

When he was crouched in front of her, wild gold eyes met his, raw with terror and mindless, driving instinct barely leashed by the rational part of her, the part that was still human. Hair held back for her morning run left her pointed ears exposed, and her hairline now extended down to the point where jaw met neck. Her features were distended, animal, mouth only just pulled shut over her fangs...and her claws, she couldn't make them go away. She couldn't drop them, they couldn't be taken away from her...

"Help me." Her voice sounded thin and panicky in her own ears, but she was beyond the point of caring. "Derek, please...please help me, please...stop me..."

She didn't care how. She didn't care about the question in his bright red eyes, all she cared about was the power.

She was a hunter, a killer...all but bred for this, and now nobody could stop her. He was the only one who could.

Derek doesn't know how this could have happened. He's the only one in Darrow that can create wolves just like him, and he's pretty sure that he would remember biting Allison Argent. He doesn't have time to question it, because he can feel how frayed she is, control about as strong as wet tissue paper, and Derek blinks. It's been a year since he's had to actually act as an alpha in any official capacity, but he knows instinctively what he has to do. He can't stop to think about how his mother or sister would have been better suited for this, he doesn't have the time. His beta needs him, and that's all that matters.

"Allison," he says quietly. She looks so afraid, quivering like a frightened animal, and she barely reacts to her name. Derek meets her gaze sternly, shifting into beta form himself and putting the force of an alpha behind his next words. "Allison, look at me."

His jaws snap, teeth gnashing with a click as he forces her into submission. A hand reaches out to grab the back of her neck, gripping tighter than he would any human and letting his claws dig into her skin. He doesn't want to hurt her, but he needs every single ounce of her attention on him right now. His voice continues to shake with power as he speaks, and it's almost like he can see it shimmering in the air around him. "You need to calm down. Control it."

He meets her eyes and roars in her face, long and loud and forceful, and barks out a stern command. "Shift back, now."

There was no way Allison could ever truly explain what it felt like when the power came into play. It was a little like being controlled by an alien force, something within her that wasn't her...something that was forced to obey him, kicking and screaming. It dragged her attention to him, to the strength of his grip, to the sting of his claws, to the deep, heavy snarl of every word that fell from his lips, fists to the solar plexus, blows to the head...

And at the same time, she felt herself being ensnared, commanded, pulled forward. Only three words mattered to the wolf, but the rest were for her, and she wanted what he asked of her so badly that she didn't even question the fact that she was openly, greedily submitting to him as he roared...

As her head finally fell forward and she helplessly, gratefully, obeyed.

For a long while she didn't move, afraid to jar the beast loose with any sudden motion...but she had to see if they were gone.

Lifting her head, she brought her hands up in her line of sight. With dark eyes and human features once again, she beheld her fingers...slim, blood-stained, but gloriously tipped with nothing more dangerous than short, carefully manicured nails.

Wringing her hands together, feeling those blunt digits digging against her own palms, she sagged in relief as her features crumbled.

Thread the needle. You can do this. You have to do this...

But she couldn't. This, she couldn't do. This was everything she feared, this was standing on the other side of wolfsbane and mountain ash and lunar eclipses. This was being a Beta in an Alpha pack, this was every nightmare she'd ever had being paraded in front of her eyes and singing in her blood.

And it only got worse as she pressed her human shaped hands against her chest, let her head fall forward again, and began to cry right in front of the person she had once sworn would never see her in a moment of weakness.

Derek lets out a relieved breath when her features melt back into their rightful human shape, and he shifts back himself in a much more fluid movement. He keeps his eyes red in case she needs it, and he's just about to start asking questions when the unthinkable happens. She starts to cry.

If this had been back home, if this was Erica, he would have told her to shut up, get over it, to be strong. He was too wrapped up in his own insecurities and fears to be what they needed him to be. Fear was a weakness to be exploited. So was kindness. Love.

If he never loved anyone again, he wouldn't get anyone hurt. He needed his betas, just as much as he needed not to love them. It was supposed to keep them safe, but Derek couldn't manage that anyway. He looks down at Allison and the sounds of her sobs much his chest squeeze painfully. He's so confused and everything is off kilter. He's tied to her now, emotionally connected to an Argent. A small part of him wants to be sick, leave her here and run away, shirk all of this unwanted responsibility. But he doesn't.

She's Allison more than she's Argent, and as of recently, she's his friend. And now, for some reason, she's his beta. There's no way that he ever could have expected this, but he can't walk away. He can be better; he can prove that he's learned from his mistakes. He can be a decent alpha. Stiles seems to think so, here and now, but it's different. Stiles isn't a wolf. But Derek takes care of him, provides and protects all the same. It's close enough.

He sighs and falls down onto his ass, leaning back against the dirty brick wall and pulling Allison into his lap. It feels easy to give into the need to provide physical comfort, the same need he always ignored back home.

If you don't love them, they won't get hurt. You won't get hurt.

She's so tiny in his arms that Derek is almost startled by it. She's always been such a big presence, whether it was a good one or a bad one, that he'd almost forgotten that she was so small. He slides his hand up into her dirty hair to cradle the back of her head, holding her against his chest.

"You're much prettier as a human," he finally says after awhile, fingers of his free hand skirting along her smooth forehead. Because as much as he wants to do right by her, he wouldn't be Derek Hale if he wasn't a little bit of an asshole.

That wild, clawing alien presence that had been forced back inside calmed when Derek was touching her, pulling her in, and the way he smelled...it was leather and the forest, it was fur and pack, the word suddenly had so much more weight than it did before. Literally, too, because laid neatly over his own scent was Stiles: warm cotton and soap she recognized from hugging him as a human, and now it was earthy, vaguely sweet, things that made his face fill her mind and her chest tight with a swell of emotion from the comfort it brought.

It fit together perfectly in a lungful of air as she hid her face against his chest, and everything in her was suddenly screaming home. More than her own house, as much as hugging her own father, just that one breath of Derek was sunlight and family and strength, all wrapped up in a scent.

It was enough to calm her trembling, and her tears, so when he finally spoke, she only hiccuped a little as she laughed and shoved at his shoulder, lifting her head to meet his gaze. She was strangely loathe to move, didn't even consider it strange to be draped across his lap because it felt so comfortable...for one irrational second, she actually forgot that she had ever hated him, couldn't fathom hating someone that was all but screaming safety just by virtue of existing.

"You're a prettier dog, Loyal Heart." she shot back lamely, nearly wiping her tears away with one blood stained hand, then catching sight of it and wiping it on her legging-clad calf before she scrubbed her wrist across her cheeks.

"I was...dead asleep, and then I woke up to go for a run. I was so restless, I just...I ran a mile last night, but I had to run. Then this jogger broadsided me and...and maybe I was still a little high strung after that guy jumped me, because...I lost it, Derek. I didn't kill him, but I lost it..."

She trailed off, feeling her throat close up and her heart start to race again. She took a deep breath, letting Derek and Stiles and pack fill her lungs, calm her heart, if not her anxiety as she met his eyes.

"You need to lock me up. You need to kill me if I hurt anyone...I haven't been bitten, I swear, I don't know how this is happening, but I'm dangerous and you need to stop me. You can do it, you're m--"

She covered her mouth with one hand, eyes wide not with horror or revulsion, but with surprise.

You're my Alpha. It would have fallen from her mouth, just another breath leaving her lungs, that easy. How could it be that easy...

"That's racist," he says in reply to the dog comment, but he listens to her story with a hand pressed to the center of her back. He wants to ask if she killed that jogger, but then he remembers that her eyes were flashing gold. He's relieved, if only for her sake. He doesn't want that weight on her shoulders.

"You weren't bitten? But - " He furrows his brows and grabs her shoulders, pushing her back a bit to look her over. The blood on her hands isn't her own, and he doesn't smell any healing wounds. "I don't understand how this happened."

Then again, they're in Darrow. Sometimes there just is no explanation.

She keeps rambling, talking bout being locked up, and Derek's eyes flash in response. "Hey, hey, calm down. You aren't going to hurt anyone else. I won't let you. It'll be okay."

When her mouth snaps shut on what Derek knows she was going to say, eyes going wide, he completely misinterprets the meaning of it. Of course she wouldn't want to be saddled with him as an alpha. Being a wolf is probably bad enough for her, and now she's tied to a Hale.

"I'm your alpha," he says quietly, wrapping strong fingers around her delicate wrist. "I know it's not what you would have chosen, but I'll help you. I'll keep you safe. We'll get you under control."

I'll do my best, he doesn't say.

When he said it, she trusted him. She believed him without question, and part of her wanted to rebel against that, protest against that sudden, blind faith in him. The friendship that was forming between them was still so new, it didn't warrant that kind of trust.

And yet...he was her Alpha. She trusted Scott, cared about him, and her respect for Derek was growing...but he was her Alpha. It made sense in a way it hadn't before, a way she couldn't explain.

He would take care of her. He would keep everyone safe from her.

She blinked, trying to push that instinct away long enough to make a human decision, brow furrowed with a deep frown as she sat there, in his lap, his hand on her back...

Pack. Safe. Mine.

She couldn't make herself not trust him. That wild presence within her wasn't just quiet, it felt like a dog rolling over, exposing its belly, safe and trusting and docile. Submissive. And the human half of her wasn't sure what to do with that.

Staring him dead in the eye as he held her wrist, promised to keep her safe...totally missed the point of her fear...she thought of the beach, of that lightness of being when she offered him her throat.

It made her want to ask if a beta could have two alphas at the same time.

Watching Derek's face for a long moment, Allison tipped her head back to look down on him with a shadow of her usual strength just touched by pride and arrogance...baring her throat at the same time, the same way she had on the beach.

"It's what I've chosen now." she informed him quietly. "And I don't need to be kept safe, I need to be kept in chains." She faltered, staring down at her hands as she drew them close again. She remembered the feel of flesh tearing under claws, the strength in her limbs...

"You've seen what I can do with a weapon in my hands...but weapons can be taken away from me." Her father had done it, shot right through her bow string while she was loosing arrow after arrow on Erica and Boyd..."

"You can't take my weapons away now." she whispered, fear creeping into her voice again. "No one can take my weapons away, no one can make me stop..."

No one but you. she finished silently. No one but an alpha that can make me submit, kill me if I lose my way, lose control. No one but you can save the world from the monster I could become.

"I can," Derek says with authority, pressing his palm to her offered neck. "You aren't going to hurt anyone, Allison."

He stands up and grabs her hand, helping her to her feet. The streets are empty in the gray light of early morning and he leads her out onto the sidewalk. "I'd take you to my place, but Stiles is there. It wouldn't be a good idea." He takes a few steps and then looks over at her. "Not because I think you'd hurt him, but you're a new wolf and if you even sniffed at him funny, my wolf would probably not take it well."

It's an admission as much as any, but he doesn't elaborate, doesn't say how his wolf howls mate in Stiles' presence. It's too new a realization and if Allison flashed her eyes at Stiles, or advanced on him in any way, Derek can't say with certainty that he wouldn't attack.

"We should go to your place," Derek says, dragging her in that direction. "It'll smell familiar. You'll feel safer there."

It is an admission...and she couldn't explain it, but when she drew her next breath...she could smell it. A scent with no name, and then a feeling, a burst in her chest of something warm and fierce and...

She was reminded of Scott, but thought of Jason for some reason. Unbeknownst to Allison, her eyes flashed gold as his face flitted through her mind's eye.

Instead of commenting, she simply nodded when she was on her feet again, staying close to Derek's side as he led her along.

"I...need an anchor, right?" She asked, forcing herself to try and cope, to act...to chain up the beast in her skin, and just thinking that seemed to make it angry. She took another deep breath, starting to feel almost dizzy from too much oxygen as she tried to find the things she needed in the air: home, truth, pack. "Scott had to find one when he first turned.

Once, it had been her...she had no idea what her anchor might be.

Derek squirms in embarrassment as she mulls it over, keeping a hand locked around her wrist as he heads towards her building. "Once you're settled, we'll go see him. Like we could keep him away once he finds out."

He slides his phone out of his pocket to text Stiles and tell him what's going on, knowing that he's got another few hours before Stiles regains consciousness and joins the land of the living. They're close to Allison's building and he looks over at her face.

"Yes, you need an anchor. And you need to stop fighting it so much." He stops at the entrance to her apartment building and waits for her to unlock the door before leading her into the lobby. "The wolf is a part of you, and shoving it out will just make it rear back. I know it's hard, but you need to just accept that it's there, let it settle. You'll feel better after, I promise."

He's never actually been to Allison's apartment, but the scent trail isn't hard to follow. He stops in front of her door and waits for her to unlock it, brows furrowed as he tries to think of what would serve as a conceivable anchor for Allison. Scott's here, but they don't mean the same thing to each other anymore. Whatever she's got going with this Jason thing is too new. She needs something stronger than a person, something less fickle and more constant. He looks at her curiously as an idea starts to blossom in his mind.

The foreign presence in her psyche flooded with warmth at his reassurance, jubilant at the prospect of seeing the rest of the pack. Thinking of Stiles made her think of his dad, and Melissa, and Scott...

...Newt and Kate and Jason, why was Jason there...

The ache for pack was so sharp then that it hurt, almost physically, driving her to press closer to Derek to push the cutting lance of solitude far away.

"I can't...help fighting." she confessed as she let him into the lobby, then led him towards the elevator in the eerie morning quiet. Only it wasn't, when she concentrated...she could hear Mr. Danvers speaking quietly in his apartment, and footsteps somewhere above them, padding across carpet. She could smell eggs cooking somewhere, and one of the first floor apartments near the elevator had a leaky faucet.

"This isn't like my mom being bitten." she went on, finding her voice again when the elevator finally carried them to her floor. "This isn't dishonor or tragedy, or a death sentence...at least not yet. I have nightmares about this, I have for a long time. I'm not like you, Derek, and I'm definitely not like Scott. I'm a hunter, a trained killer...and now I'm also a predator. It's not a calling, it's instinct, I...I can feel it."

At her door, she slid her key into the lock, stilling for a moment to take a shaky breath, feeling her hand start to tremble again.

"If I killed you," she admitted softly, staring at the knob, "right here, tonight, and I became an Alpha...I wouldn't be a direwolf, Derek. I'd be Peter. I'd be worse."

Unlocking her door, she opened it and stepped back to let Derek in ahead of her, meeting his gaze reluctantly.

"There's not enough good left in me to be a werewolf...just a monster."

He stiffens a little at the mention of her mother, because the thought honestly hadn't even crossed his mind. He knows of the Argents' unfortunate code of honor now, but he doesn't think that Allison would abide by it. A relieved breath escapes him once this is confirmed.

She mentions killing him and he stiffens on reflex, turning to raise an eyebrow at her. She keeps talking, and it all sounds so familiar, like the thoughts that bounced around his own head for so long.

"Stop," he says shortly, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the apartment. He shuts the door and reaches out to grip her shoulders, staring until she meets his gaze. "You're wrong. You were a kid fueled by anger and grief. Believe me, I know what that's like."

He sighs and rubs her shoulder a bit, trying to find the words to make her okay. "If this is permanent, we'll figure it out. You're not a monster, Allison. You're not - you aren't her."

He won't deny that the possibility is there, but he doesn't think it'll happen. There's a darkness inside of Allison, just like there is inside of himself, but what matters is what they do with it. "Do you want to kill me?"

It was a secret fear of hers: to become her aunt, to become as lost in the darkness as Kate had been...it meant a lot to hear Derek say she wasn't like her. It gave her hope, for a future where she might not be like this forever...

Then he kept talking, and it felt a little like the world was ending.

"No!" The protest was abrupt, a little too loud, and full of very real fear. The idea of killing Derek, killing her Alpha, the only one that could control her in this state, was unfathomable to her. She had said it, but she hadn't meant it...hearing it come out of his mouth scared her.

So much so that she rushed him, arms wrapping around his middle as she pressed her face against his chest, breathing in the scent of Derek and of pack.

"No, I don't...no." she repeated, voice muffled as she spoke.

Derek could stop her. Derek was pack...neither she, nor the wolf liked talking about Derek being dead.

Derek lets out a soft oomph as Allison throws herself at him with all of her new strength, and he can't help but to chuckle a bit as he rubs her back. "I didn't think so, and I think you just proved that you aren't a vicious killer."

It takes a few moments for him to get used to the feeling of her in his arms, but soon enough it just feels like he's comforting a beta. He gives her a squeeze and presses a kiss to the top of her head before pulling away.

"Okay, I have an idea." He leads her into the apartment and scratches the back of his neck as he looks around. "You got a new bow, I assume, right? Go get it."

Allison rolled her eyes, but didn't budge from her spot as Derek held her. He didn't understand the root of her fear, the root of that darkness in her...he was too good for that. It was more than just the wolf and how it stretched happily in her skin, reveling in the safety and comfort of her alpha's presence, either, it was things that were coming out in pieces, and had been since her arrival.

The city had changed Derek in a lot of ways. He was still a jerk, still pretty taciturn...but he tried. He tried to talk, tried to explain, and every time he did she got a slightly better glimpse at something beneath the legacy between their families and the residual anger she'd held onto for far too long. He was, deep down, pure. He was loving and loyal and strong, and if her aunt hadn't destroyed his life...he could have been a very easy man to care for, a friend Allison would never have thought twice about welcoming into her life and fighting to the death for.

She'd told Jason, that day in the park, that she was perfectly okay with blood on her hands, shed for those who couldn't live with it. It startled her to realize that she'd started to see Derek as one of those people, someone she could shed a little more blood for so his hands stayed clean.

People like that could never truly understand the fear people like her had of that ability to sleep at night, swimming in that much red.

When he released her with a brotherly kiss atop her head, she let him steer her deeper into the apartment. Mention of her bow brought thoughts of Jason again, and of Kate and Katniss and Alex...faces in her mind's eye that made her wolf growl, itching for packmates with which to hunt. They weren't pack, not all of them, but some of them the wolf seemed to like.

...God, this duality thing was weird.

Heading for her bedroom, Allison dragged her case out from under the bed and brought it back out into the living room. With brisk, deadly efficiency, she set it on the coffee table, snapped the case open, and flipped the lid up to let Derek see the gleaming black recurve bow nestled in its protective foam.

"Okay...now what?"

Derek can feel her anxiety and he holds her tighter, wishing he could understand what she's going through. He releases her with a sigh and sits back on her sofa as she goes to retrieve her bow. When she opens the case, he reaches out to pick it up, balancing it on two fingers and holding it up.

"A weapon like this is a very human tool," Derek tells her, standing up and placing the bow in her hands. "You can't pull the string back with claws, can't hit a bullseye if all you see is red. I'm not really sure, but I think that this might help."

He sniffs at the quiver and reaches out to grab an arrow when he doesn't smell any wolfsbane, and then holds it out to her. "Maybe if you concentrate on that feeling when you're notching an arrow, it could keep you human, help you focus."

Brows furrowed, he gives a shrug. It's probably a dumb idea, but it's the only one he's got.

...Allison wasn't sure it was a great idea, but it sure as hell wasn't a bad one. Truthfully, it made some sense.

Reaching for the arrow he held out, and her bow, Allison stood hesitantly. Carefully, she notched her arrow against the string, focusing on how it felt...the bow in her grip, the string under her fingers, the stillness she gathered around her before taking her target. For a moment, she shut her eyes and let it all wrap around her, take her down beyond the place where she shot, and deeper into the place where she hunted.

She took a deep breath, air full of Derek and Stiles, the smell of pack and her own apartment (den, she could feel the wolf inside her snarl, pack, den, alpha, mine), and exhaled her tension.

Lifting the bow, she drew back the string and felt something click inside her, a connection between herself and the wolf, two hunters uniting as one...

When her eyes opened, they were glowing gold, but no other part of her transformed.

Derek watches her closely, grinning proudly when she looks at him with those beta gold eyes. There's a stillness about her in that moment, one that's been missing since he found her in that alley, and he's happy to see it.

"Holy shit, it worked." This is by no means a permanent fix, and he doesn't know if something like this could serve as an anchor, but it'll do for the moment. Derek has seen Allison with a weapon in her hands, has witnessed that laser focus first hand. Granted, he's pleased that it isn't him in her sights anymore, but he's glad that she still has that. "Later, I can take you out into the woods, show you a few things. And if you get overwhelmed, you can stick some arrows in some trees."

The mention of the woods made her wolf growl eagerly in her head, and her eyes flared brighter in the low light before she drew a deep breath and lowered the bow, letting it go slack as she exhaled. She struggled to hold onto that stillness, that quiet space...to compromise with the wolf by letting the predator and the hunter fill the same space again.

Slowly, the light in her eyes faded, dimming until they were human once again.

Carefully, Allison slid her arrow back in its quiver, and set her now back in its case. Snapping it shut, she settled onto the couch beside Derek, thinking nothing of crowding right against his side until she could feel the heat of his body from shoulder to knee.

It was a start...it wasn't control, but she felt a little less...homicidal, and she was giddy with relief over it.

"She," she finally declared softly after a long pause, "wants to hunt. She wants her pack...the wolf." After a beat, she covered her face with both hands, but instead of tears, an animal growl of frustration rolled out of her chest.

"God, I feel like I'm schizophrenic or something!"

He blinks when she curls up at his side, but he loops an arm around her shoulders and hauls her close all the same. "That's because you aren't just accepting her. You aren't two separate entities, Allison. It isn't human versus wolf. You just are."

He slides his hand up and down her skinny arm and swallows, brow furrowing. "I know it's different, what with your family and all, but is it really so bad? You said it yourself, that this isn't a curse, but you aren't quite acting like it." He sighs an turns to press a kiss to her temple. "I can force the wolf in you to submit, but it would settle on its own if you just accepted it."

"She just...wants things that scare me." She admitted, swallowing thickly and tipping her head to rest it on Derek's shoulder when he kissed the top, overcome with the desire to crawl into his lap again...just to hold, to be held, to be able to smell him when he wasn't there. The wolf wanted to be marked, to be claimed, she felt safer that way. Stronger.

"I already have a beast in me, something worse than her." She went on quietly. "And I can't trust myself not to lose control if I don't keep her under control. The wolf isn't evil, I can feel it." She paused, laughing a little as she tipped her head up to look at him. "I think she's the reason I keep...clinging. All she wants from you is...Alpha cuddles, it's the only way I can explain it. No, she...I know werewolves are predators, but I have it in me to be a killer. I don't...I'm just scared."

Derek listens to her with an intent expression, sliding his palm up her arm and along her neck to scent her, though his nose wrinkles at alpha cuddles. "I don't think you give yourself enough credit. I mean, when I came here, you were gone for the summer. You were still firmly in the enemy camp, as far as I knew. But things obviously changed, right?"

Once again, he's frustrated by all the things that he doesn't know, but part of him is still too cowardly to ask. "You're strong, Allison. But you aren't her. You have a heart, a soul. You're so afraid of yourself but I'm not. After everything, I'm not afraid of you."

Allison nodded, thinking about Derek and Jennifer, about Boyd and Erica and what he sacrificed for Cora. Even when she still hated him, she felt bad for him, for all he had endured. It had changed the way she hated him, opened her to the possibility of forgiveness, and when she realized they were all part of the same pack...

Silently vowing never to tell him anything about home if she didn't need to, Allison shifted to wrap her arms around his middle, tucking her head against his chest as thoughts of Erica and Boyd brought darker memories...the reasons Derek ought to fear her.

But he didn't. His heart was dead steady, a comforting, even rhythm in her ears...no lie to be had.

"You should be." She replied quietly. "You should be very afraid."

And she didn't have the courage to tell him how grateful she was that he wasn't.

"Okay, Geena Davis," Derek says with a chuckle, thinking back to a movie where she said that exact quote. "And maybe I should be, but I'm not. We shared a moment on the beach, remember?"

His tone is gently teasing, but it doesn't make the words any less true. He cradles the back of her head in his large palm, sliding his hand down to grip the back of her neck and mark her with her alpha's scent. It should calm her. It takes him a few beats to adjust to her caging him in, skinny arms tight around his middle, but he relaxes into it soon enough.

Derek won't even pretend that he has all the right answers here, but he'll do his best to help her.

Allison dignified his answer by punching him lightly, playfully in the side...but even that carried some weight, she could feel it. Suddenly, she was very glad she'd howled for Derek instead of finding Stiles or even seeking out Newt, because anything human she would break just by hugging them too hard.

The hand on her neck was comforting, a firm, steady weight, and the scent of him made her feel warm and safe...and it made the wolf so happy she was languid, quiet...growling low and steady and soft. It was the closest to calm she'd felt since she'd attacked that jogger.

Shutting her eyes for a moment, she sighed as she relaxed against him, almost drowsy and marveling at the fact that she felt this way around Derek.

Derek, not Derek Hale, because that was who he was here. Derek Hale was the man back home that hadn't become this man yet, and she vowed that, if she ever did go home, she'd give him a chance to become the person she'd offered her throat to, the strong and caring alpha that had her wolf purring like a kitten snuggled at its mother's side.

Or...a wolf cub snuggled at its...brother's side.

Satisfied with her analogy, she looked up at him again, still scared, but less afraid of losing control and killing someone so long as she had her alpha.

"Does Stiles know you're here? I don't want him to worry about you." she murmured. Having been the human in a werewolf/human relationship, she knew how that felt...and even if she didn't get the whole Derek and Stiles thing, Stiles was a first class worrywart.

And, unfortunately, he came by it honestly.

Derek hisses when she punches him, more so because the force behind it caught him of guard rather than it actually hurting. It'd been a long time since he was faced with someone as strong as him. "That's okay," he says as he catches Allison's tiny, deadly fist in his hand. "We'll work on that."

He laughs a little and sinks back into the cushions, bringing Allison with him. It's been so long since he's been with pack like this. Laura jumped on him all the time, would sit on his back while she went through their bills, lay on him while they watched a movie. Physical proximity like this was so important.

"I texted him, but he probably would have just assumed that I was on a run." He closes his eyes and cards his fingers through Allison's soft hair, and he bites his lip as a thought occurs to him.

"I should have done this with them," Derek says quietly, words tumbling from his lips in a low, rough tone. He can't even say their names. "I should have been better."

Hearing the words that came out of his mouth, the wounded tone...Allison felt partly responsible for that. She knew he didn't have any idea, but she remembered the words she'd flung in his face in a poor moment.

Well I’m not the one turning teenagers into killers.

He was hurting, and knowing him as she did now...feeling like she did as his beta, as part of his pack, Allison had to blink against tears that wanted to fall for his pain, his regret...her sudden, desperate need to soothe that guilt.

The wolf growled, and this time Allison understood the urge as she drew away and crawled back to sit on his lap so she could tuck as much of her body as she could against his, curl against his chest...swallow him up with her warmth and all the comfort she could offer.

"You are now." she reminded him quietly as her head fell to his shoulder, forehead pressing against the curve of his neck. "And you will...when you get back."

She'd already hurt him enough by telling him about Cora...she wasn't about to hurt him again by telling him about Boyd or Erica, or even that Isaac had left his pack for Scott's.

That Derek didn't deserve the pack he had. This one...suddenly, for one fleeting moment, Allison was happy she was a werewolf, if only so she could be a part of the pack Derek needed, the pack he definitely deserved.

He lets out a breath like he's been punched when he feels how much she cares for him in that moment, as she clings to him like he's something important.

"God, it's so bad, but - " He closes his eyes and grips her back just as tight. He sucks in air like he can't get enough, guilt weighing heavy on his chest. When he finally speaks again, it's quiet. Hesitant. "What if I don't really want to go back?"

He doesn't talk about it with Stiles, because he knows Stiles would give up everything he has here in Darrow if it meant that he could go home. He refuses to get rid of his apartment and commit himself to living with Derek because his is full of research on how to get out, get away from here. Stiles will never truly be happy here, not completely, and there's even more guilt to add to Derek's pile when he feels a tiny bit hurt by that fact. He's under no grand delusion that he's good enough for Stiles, or for any of the people he's forged bonds with here, but he wants to be enough.

Everyone is scrambling to get out of here, to get home, but Derek doesn't have anything to go back to. It's not that he's okay with being trapped, but he likes it here, and it feels like he's the only one.

Allison thought about it, then lifted her head to look him in the eye.

"Is that really so bad?" She asked quietly. She had a life back in Beacon Hills, a good one, but when she'd arrived in Darrow, she had been afraid. Desperately, horrifically afraid, every waking moment of every single day. She couldn't trust anyone, she couldn't let her guard down for an instant, and everyone counted on her.

She was a soldier at seventeen, a veteran of a war she never enlisted in...a war she was born into. The war hadn't followed her into Darrow...in fact, the city had brought a peace treaty right to her doorstep.

"I mean...I miss my dad, I miss my life...I'd like to leave." She admitted. "But I'd also like there to be a Darrow lottery so I could win and have a car again." She smiled a little at that, leaning over to kiss his forehead in a sisterly manner.

"Weird locals aside, Derek, I like it here. So don't feel guilty, okay? You're not alone."

"Stiles hates it here. Even though we're... he'd do anything to go home." Where we aren't together and probably never would be, Derek doesn't say. He lets out a breath when she kisses him, reminding him of Laura, and he has to screw his eyes shut.

"I'm not really sure how not to feel guilty," Derek admits. "It's been an ingrained part of my personality since I was sixteen."

"I know he would, he's...Stiles." Allison replied simply on the end of a sigh. And there was a lot that came with Stiles: all that restless energy that left him vibrating, that made the notion of being confined nigh on unbearable. Stiles, who thrived on the love and support of family and friends. Stiles, who had pursued true love for so long a tiny part of him had sort of given up on ever being able to call it his own. Stiles, who needed his world, his town, his...territory.

She wondered if Derek realized just how much of a wolf his human boyfriend was. If he did, maybe Stiles's desire to get back to Beacon Hills, to be free, to be back wholly in the bosom of people he knew and understood, wouldn't bother Derek quite so much.

"So change." Allison replied simply, leaning in again to just press her nose against his forehead, breathing in his scent. "And stop thinking you're not good enough for him, because it's a crock...you reek of insecurity, you know that? "

"He's Stiles, alright," Derek replies with fond exasperation. He lets out a snort when she tells him to change, like it's simple, and it turns quickly to a glare. It's not like she's wrong, but he doesn't like his weaknesses pointed out. "Now you know how I felt around all you hormonal teenagers all the time."

He won't admit it, and he doesn't necessarily think it's true, but it warms him that Allison thinks he's good enough for Stiles. She's genetically predisposed to hate him, but she doesn't. It's going to take some getting used to.

"Got news for you, Loyal Heart: we're teenagers, we can't help it!" Allison laughed. His scent changed a little, though...less uncertain and more...she wasn't sure what, but it was like a loosening in her chest as her nostrils flared, and something in his scent turned warmer, sweeter, more pleasant.

"Anyway, you're just as bad." she insisted, poking his shoulder and leaning in to sniff at him again. "Part of the reason you smell so good is because you smell like Stiles, too...the wolf likes it." It was a little less difficult to say this time, making her falter only a moment before she said it out loud. "As bad as she wants pack, it's like having both of you here at the same time."

She paused, then added, "And when I say you smell like Stiles, I mean you're good enough for Stiles or else his father would have killed you already for sleeping with him...he's all over you, and it's strong."

Derek gives her a fond look when she talks about pack, reaching out to cup her cheek and drag his palm gently down the side of her neck, scenting her. His expression turns smug when she mentions his and Stiles' mixed scents and sits back, eyes glinting.

"Am I supposed to feel anything other than smug about that? Because I don't."

It wasn't so much as the feel of his hand dragging over her skin, but the heaviness of his scent that made Allison suddenly feel like stretching and purring as Derek touched her. It wasn't sexual, it was...like her father hugging her when she was a little girl, sweeping her clean off her feet and swinging her around, clutched tight in his arms as he beamed down at her. It was those rare, softer moments when her mother baked, passing along family traditions that had nothing to do with being strong or capable or pragmatic.

It was that first night at the animal clinic, knowing she hadn't killed that dog. It was holding her bow and having it trained on an enemy...it was everything safe and home when he scented her, and it kept her from answering him. Instead, she just leaned eagerly into his touch, then mock scowled at him as she flopped back in to curl against his chest again.

"Are you sure I haven't turned into a werehousecat?" she groused rhetorically without any real complaint. "You keep marking me, and the wolf keeps purring. It's like your scent's a big security blanket...must be an Alpha thing."

Or maybe it was just the good ones. And she had to admit: Derek was becoming just that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

June 2, 2014 - the saints can't help me now (locked to Derek Hale)

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