Wet Ash and Loam
Author: tryslora
Title: Wet Ash and Loam
Rating: R
Pairing/s: past Derek/Kate
Character/s: Laura, Derek
Summary: Derek has to see the truth of what happened for himself.
Warnings: descriptions of the fire and burnt body aftermath, aftermath of statutory rape, loads of angst
Word Count: 890 words
Prompt: #7 - Fire
Author's Notes: This is a part of the Hogwarts AU series A Kind of Magic. Also, I don’t own the characters or world of Teen Wolf, but I do love playing with them.
Derek’s supposed to stay hidden, but this doesn’t stop him from slipping out his window, sliding down the roof and catching air with his broom just before he hits the ground.
He’s done this same thing a hundred times before, but never from this roof. Never with this broom.
Normally he’s escaping his own house, not running towards it. Towards the one place Laura doesn’t want him to go.
The broom is unfamiliar under him, a brand new model bought with money that is inexplicably his, without the need for parental approval.
He’d kill to have to have that approval. Kill.
A low growl escapes, and he fights to keep it from turning into a howl, or fading into a piteous whimper. He focuses on the flying, claws digging into the wooden shaft of the broom.
By the time he gets to Hale Manor, he think he has wrestled himself under control, but it all falls apart as soon as he catches a whiff of the stench that lies over the grounds.
It is all too soon, too fresh. He can smell charred flesh overlaid with panic. He can pick out the scents of his siblings and parents intertwined with wet ash. He stumbles as he lands, falling to his knees, hands grasping at a faint dusting of snow.
He howls then, lets it burn through his lungs as he screams his frustration. He did this. He did this. He throws his arms wide, reaching for the wards that have cradled him safely since birth. He can feel the hole he placed in them, feel the entry he gave to the Argents.
She betrayed him.
He will hunt her down and rip her heart out and feast on her blood.
“Derek.”
He flinches at the voice, pulls away with a growl.
“Derek.” Laura’s voice is firm, soft. Human. Her touch is cool against the heat of his skin, her palm flattening slowly until her fingers close around his neck and gently squeeze. He can feel her power, her control, and he shivers as his humanity is called back to the foreground.
“It’s my fault,” he whispers. “I just… she was… I thought we were going to change things, Laura. I thought we’d go to our fathers and tell them that we were the new future. That we’d make an alliance, and things would be right for once. No more battles. No more arguing. We’d all be safe.”
It was idealistic, he sees that now. Standing there in the ruins of his life, he knows that sorrow and desperation smell like wet ash and loam, and he chokes on the heavy air.
Laura hesitates, and when they come her words are slow and careful. Honest. “You shouldn’t have snuck around with Kate Argent,” she says softly. “You could’ve told me.”
“You would’ve told me not to trust her.”
Her laugh has a bitter edge. “Exactly. You were thinking with your prick, Derek. It happens. And that’s exactly what she was hoping for. You’re still a child.”
“Am I?” He doesn’t feel much like a child anymore. He feels… empty. Broken. Every pleasant memory of Kate is now tarnished and dull, twisted into something he doesn’t even recognize. He remembers the shine of her skin, the feel of her fingertips grazing low on his body; he starts to shake uncontrollably, curling in on himself. Laura’s arms go around him, cradling him like the child he can’t possibly be any longer.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and she shushes him with a kiss to his temple.
“It came to me, you know,” she tells him, sitting next to him in the ashes and holding him. “We’re still Hales, you and me. We’ll figure it out.”
He is bigger than she is, but Laura has always made him feel protected, ever since they were small. And that, that means she is the head of the Hale family. Magically. “The Ministry wants us to go away.”
Laura nods, and he feels the brush of her hair against his cheek. “Far away, until they figure out what happened here.”
“They’ll never figure it out.” He knows that as well as Laura. He’d tried to explain, tried to blurt it all out to the Aurors, every bit of it, even the part where it was his fault. But no words came, nothing that made sense, and once they were alone, Laura had told him what Kate had done to them. How she had sealed their lips so they couldn’t say a word against the Argents.
“I know. But we know what happened. And we can’t destroy them, not yet Derek. If we get sent to Azkaban, they win.”
He growls and she shushes him. But he has to agree. “Fine. We go where the Ministry tells us, and we’ll come back when it’s safe. I’m not letting them end us.”
Laura’s fingers tangle with his, and together they sit, brother and sister, surveying the wreckage of their family and home. “You and me together, Derek. They’ve started a war, and we’re going to win. I’ll handle the subtlety, you’ll handle the brute force. The Argents will never know what hit them.”
Derek grins at that, baring teeth and bite. He’ll make sure the Argents know. They started this; he’ll make sure they know who’s won in the end.
Title: Wet Ash and Loam
Rating: R
Pairing/s: past Derek/Kate
Character/s: Laura, Derek
Summary: Derek has to see the truth of what happened for himself.
Warnings: descriptions of the fire and burnt body aftermath, aftermath of statutory rape, loads of angst
Word Count: 890 words
Prompt: #7 - Fire
Author's Notes: This is a part of the Hogwarts AU series A Kind of Magic. Also, I don’t own the characters or world of Teen Wolf, but I do love playing with them.
Derek’s supposed to stay hidden, but this doesn’t stop him from slipping out his window, sliding down the roof and catching air with his broom just before he hits the ground.
He’s done this same thing a hundred times before, but never from this roof. Never with this broom.
Normally he’s escaping his own house, not running towards it. Towards the one place Laura doesn’t want him to go.
The broom is unfamiliar under him, a brand new model bought with money that is inexplicably his, without the need for parental approval.
He’d kill to have to have that approval. Kill.
A low growl escapes, and he fights to keep it from turning into a howl, or fading into a piteous whimper. He focuses on the flying, claws digging into the wooden shaft of the broom.
By the time he gets to Hale Manor, he think he has wrestled himself under control, but it all falls apart as soon as he catches a whiff of the stench that lies over the grounds.
It is all too soon, too fresh. He can smell charred flesh overlaid with panic. He can pick out the scents of his siblings and parents intertwined with wet ash. He stumbles as he lands, falling to his knees, hands grasping at a faint dusting of snow.
He howls then, lets it burn through his lungs as he screams his frustration. He did this. He did this. He throws his arms wide, reaching for the wards that have cradled him safely since birth. He can feel the hole he placed in them, feel the entry he gave to the Argents.
She betrayed him.
He will hunt her down and rip her heart out and feast on her blood.
“Derek.”
He flinches at the voice, pulls away with a growl.
“Derek.” Laura’s voice is firm, soft. Human. Her touch is cool against the heat of his skin, her palm flattening slowly until her fingers close around his neck and gently squeeze. He can feel her power, her control, and he shivers as his humanity is called back to the foreground.
“It’s my fault,” he whispers. “I just… she was… I thought we were going to change things, Laura. I thought we’d go to our fathers and tell them that we were the new future. That we’d make an alliance, and things would be right for once. No more battles. No more arguing. We’d all be safe.”
It was idealistic, he sees that now. Standing there in the ruins of his life, he knows that sorrow and desperation smell like wet ash and loam, and he chokes on the heavy air.
Laura hesitates, and when they come her words are slow and careful. Honest. “You shouldn’t have snuck around with Kate Argent,” she says softly. “You could’ve told me.”
“You would’ve told me not to trust her.”
Her laugh has a bitter edge. “Exactly. You were thinking with your prick, Derek. It happens. And that’s exactly what she was hoping for. You’re still a child.”
“Am I?” He doesn’t feel much like a child anymore. He feels… empty. Broken. Every pleasant memory of Kate is now tarnished and dull, twisted into something he doesn’t even recognize. He remembers the shine of her skin, the feel of her fingertips grazing low on his body; he starts to shake uncontrollably, curling in on himself. Laura’s arms go around him, cradling him like the child he can’t possibly be any longer.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and she shushes him with a kiss to his temple.
“It came to me, you know,” she tells him, sitting next to him in the ashes and holding him. “We’re still Hales, you and me. We’ll figure it out.”
He is bigger than she is, but Laura has always made him feel protected, ever since they were small. And that, that means she is the head of the Hale family. Magically. “The Ministry wants us to go away.”
Laura nods, and he feels the brush of her hair against his cheek. “Far away, until they figure out what happened here.”
“They’ll never figure it out.” He knows that as well as Laura. He’d tried to explain, tried to blurt it all out to the Aurors, every bit of it, even the part where it was his fault. But no words came, nothing that made sense, and once they were alone, Laura had told him what Kate had done to them. How she had sealed their lips so they couldn’t say a word against the Argents.
“I know. But we know what happened. And we can’t destroy them, not yet Derek. If we get sent to Azkaban, they win.”
He growls and she shushes him. But he has to agree. “Fine. We go where the Ministry tells us, and we’ll come back when it’s safe. I’m not letting them end us.”
Laura’s fingers tangle with his, and together they sit, brother and sister, surveying the wreckage of their family and home. “You and me together, Derek. They’ve started a war, and we’re going to win. I’ll handle the subtlety, you’ll handle the brute force. The Argents will never know what hit them.”
Derek grins at that, baring teeth and bite. He’ll make sure the Argents know. They started this; he’ll make sure they know who’s won in the end.