Fic: All Debts Paid (pt 1 of 2)
Author:iyalode
Name:All Debts Paid
Pairing:Derek/Scott, Peter/Melissa
Rating:NC17
Summary:In which Kate catches Scott and Peter is an Alpha with plans
Warnings:Alternating POVs, torture & rape references, Argent character death(plural),Spoilers up to S1.12
Disclaimer:Teen Wolf is the property of MTV. I make no claim to the characters
***
She leaves him out in the forest. Kate’s obviously had a grand old psychotic time, the young beta is a bleeding raw piece of meat tied to stakes like the bait he is.
Peter peers through the golden afternoon sunlight, “She does realize we’re capable of higher brain function than a normal wolf, doesn’t she?” Derek feels Peter’s gaze slide over him. “Oh, maybe not.”
“Shut up.”
Damp earth and the overwhelming smell of tainted blood, the faintest trace of gun oil when the fickle breeze picks up again.
The rest of the forest inhabitants are giving them all a wide berth.
Waiting for the gladiatorial games to begin.
Derek twitches with irritation as his uncle taps at his watch thoughtfully before settling back against the granite outcrop with a sigh. “I’ve missed lunch; I’m going to have to get takeout instead. Maybe hunter with a side serving of nephew you never learn.”
“And maybe you should do something about saving your beta and shut the hell up.”
“He’s not my anything. Yet. But after this? Well, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Peter’s smile is overwhelmingly satisfied. “Do you?”
No. And perhaps that irks Derek most of all. He’s played fair with the youngling, to a point. As much as he was able to commit to at the time, he has nothing to show for his efforts but childish tantrums and this.
Between them, in one way or another, his uncle and Kate have successfully torn the boy asunder.
Welcome to my world, kid.
Derek recalls when being what he is meant something other than blood and fear and death. He clings to those memories the way a child holds onto Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Laura always said he was a dreamer, would ruffle Derek’s hair and laugh at his ineffectual attempts to bat her away. Christ he misses her.
And Derek wonders. Wonders what he’s prepared to do to be part of a pack again and if he can live with the aftermath.
He thinks he can.
***
When Peter knocks on her door, her son’s been missing for five days. Five.
“Come with me,” he says. “I’ve found your son.”
Melissa goes.
To a pale blue house in the suburbs with floral curtains and a neatly manicured front lawn.
“My nurse used to own the place,” Peter explains opening the front door. “She’s moved on now.”
She’s running on nothing but adrenaline, her phone is still on kitchen counter at home and Melissa curses the lack of sleep that’s made her stupid. “Where is he!? Where’s my son?”
“What the hell have you done?” Derek Hale stands at the top of the stairs and although he seems to be addressing Peter looks about as pleased to see Melissa as she him.
A blood soaked towel that once upon a time could have been yellow twists slowly from his hand.
Oh god.
Peter catches her before she can open the door. His hands vice like around her arms and her struggles are futile.
“I never picked you for a potty mouth, Melissa. My, aren’t you full of surprises.”
And he tells her. He tells her before she can open the door that she needs to listen.
Listen and understand that neither he nor Derek did this. He tells Melissa how they found her son. How they fought to rescue him because her son is precious to them in ways she’ll know soon enough. And when he’s done, when he’s finished telling her of the people who killed his family and tortured Scott. When she’s crying and hanging limply in his grasp, Peter opens the door.
Melissa’s a nurse, she’s done trauma for years and even though this is Scott she’s foolish enough to believe she’d be prepared.
She’s not.
Four hours later she has enough comfort to see Scott healing before her very eyes, skin slowly crawling over exposed sinew and muscle. “I’ll be back in a moment, baby.” Melissa walks slowly into the bathroom down the hall and throws up what little remains in her stomach.
She finishes washing out her mouth to find Peter standing by the door, his expression a mixture of compassion and calculating assessment.
“Tell me,” she demands. “Tell me why. Tell me how,” and he nods.
“I’ll tell you everything,” Peter slides into the room and turns Melissa to face the mirror. He stands behind her tall and proud with a rage that burns like the sun. “I’ll tell you about the woman who tortured and raped your son, and Melissa? I’ll even go one better. I’ll tell you how we can kill her.”
***
Kate Argent thinks her brother needs to grow a pair. Let her grab that Stiles kid, maybe even Lord Fauntleroy Jackwhatever, let her tie them down for a while to have a nice long chat.
Ten days since the Alpha and Hale snatched the pup right from under her nose killing two hunters and wounding her professional pride in the process.
She’s better than that.
Better than Chris, though he’ll never admit it and this driving all over Beacon Hills? Boring.
“Oh my god! Enough of the driving round in circles already, can we please just find something to shoot!”
Chris hits the brakes so hard she almost goes through the windshield.
“Don’t,” he turns on her with snarl his hand around her neck. “Not another word out of you or by god I’ll send you packing like I should have. My daughter is so traumatized she can’t even speak, but she screamed when you walked into the room, Kate. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re capable of.”
The cell phone trills lightly on the floor at his feet.
She could do with a diversion right about now. Awesome. “I told you it was the Alpha and Hale,” she says. The cell phone keeps ringing. “You gonna answer that or shall we let the wolves kill someone else tonight?”
There’s distaste on her brother’s face as he lets her go, like he can’t get away from her fast enough.
As he answers the phone a howl rips through the perfect cookie cutter suburbia of Beacon Hills. Christ she hates this town, swore she’d never come back. Fucking werewolves.
Also? Totally unfair blaming her for Allison’s freak-out. Chris has protected his princess for too long, it’s made her a target and weak. No Argent should be weak. Ever.
Her brother closes the phone and just sits there, weighing it in his hand.
“Well?”
“Scott’s mother has returned home.”
“Alone?”
“We don’t know for sure. Automatic garage door and she drove straight in, closed the door before they could see anything. But there appears to be more movement in the house than there ought to be for one person.”
At last. Scott goes crying to mother and mother comes running. It’s almost embarrassing to think her niece dated the guy.
“She’s a nurse, right? Maybe he called her. We should drop by and see how she’s coping with that missing son and all,” and shoot the little shit before he can spill the beans to Chris or anyone else.
“I thought you said you didn’t touch him?”
Ah. Oops. “There were bullets flying everywhere, Chris. I can’t say we didn’t hit him but if we did it wasn’t on purpose.” Much.
Chris points a finger at her his face grim, words seem to fail him however and thank god for that. Kate’s getting tired of the lectures for being good at her job.
Another howl rattles the car windows.
Fucking werewolves.
***
Melissa McCall is tired, pale and less than pleased to see them.
“Ms McCall? I’m Chris Argent, Allison’s father. We met at the school a while ago.”
“You shot the cat,” she says, apropos to nothing.
“Yes,” Chris blinks and gentles his tone.”Yes I did. Do you mind if we come in? We wanted to see if you’d heard anything. My daughter’s very upset and worried about Scott. I don’t believe you’ve met Allison’s aunt? This is Kate.”
She steps aside, motioning them in without a word.
Kate brushes past them both, striding into the woman’s home like she owns the place. Subtle she is not; he should have told her to stay outside.
Melissa McCall’s face is a study of careful blankness as she tracks Kate roaming past every downstairs doorway, “I’m afraid I can’t offer you coffee,” she says. “I’ve only just returned from a friend’s house and haven’t had time to get groceries.”
“No, thank you. We’re fine.” There’s a frailty about her, like she’s been stretched too thin that Chris has seen all too often. Missing partners, missing children and sometimes, sometimes he’s been the cause of that grief. It’s not something he’s proud of, the necessary fallout that comes with saving lives as a hunter.
She leads them into the kitchen, to a small round table of lightly polished oak. They’ve barely sat down before Kate starts in with, “So, any news about Scott?”
Melissa’s head jerks upward; eyes narrow with unfeigned hostility.
Jesus, Kate. “I apologize for my sister’s bluntness, Ms McCall. The police have been keeping much of recent events close to their chest and as I said, we’re all very concerned and would like to offer any assistance we can.”
“Of course you would.”
It’s the sound that finally clues him in, her claws slowly gauging the table. No! Nononono.
Melissa McCall rips Kate’s throat out in a single blow.
Something blindsides him with so much force he’s airborne, his back hits the refrigerator before he can even draw his gun. A hand around his wrist, the grinding sound of bones breaking.
“Hello, Chris. It’s been a while. Thank you for the flowers at the hospital by the way, unfortunately roses aren’t really my thing.”
***
Allison wakes to the sound of her bedroom door closing with a repressed snick. Her mother probably. Or Dad. Not Kate. Never Kate, ever again.
It’s only when she feels the bed dip and someone settle beside her that she realizes she’s not alone.
The shaking starts all over again.
“Sshh. Shush. It’s okay, it’s me,” whisper soft. Scott.
She can’t look at him, she’ so ashamed.
He’s a solid wall of comfort at her back; his hand runs soothingly up and down her arm. He tells her that he’s okay, that he’s healed. Everything’s going to be okay, Allison.
Nothing is ever going to be okay ever again. “I’m sorry,” she talks to the wall. Can’t turn yet. Can’t look at him. “Oh god, Scott! I’m so so sorry. I didn’t. I didn’t.”
“Shush. I know you’re sorry. I know. And don’t worry, Derek will kill your Mom quick. She won’t feel a thing.”
Allison Argent dies in the arms of the boy she loves and Scott says he still loves her. He does. And he’s sorry, he really is.
But he hates her just that little bit more.
End Part 1
Music to download & listen by:
1: Figure 8 by Trust Company
2: Die By The Drop
3: The Matador by White Buffalo
Name:All Debts Paid
Pairing:Derek/Scott, Peter/Melissa
Rating:NC17
Summary:In which Kate catches Scott and Peter is an Alpha with plans
Warnings:Alternating POVs, torture & rape references, Argent character death(plural),Spoilers up to S1.12
Disclaimer:Teen Wolf is the property of MTV. I make no claim to the characters
***
She leaves him out in the forest. Kate’s obviously had a grand old psychotic time, the young beta is a bleeding raw piece of meat tied to stakes like the bait he is.
Peter peers through the golden afternoon sunlight, “She does realize we’re capable of higher brain function than a normal wolf, doesn’t she?” Derek feels Peter’s gaze slide over him. “Oh, maybe not.”
“Shut up.”
Damp earth and the overwhelming smell of tainted blood, the faintest trace of gun oil when the fickle breeze picks up again.
The rest of the forest inhabitants are giving them all a wide berth.
Waiting for the gladiatorial games to begin.
Derek twitches with irritation as his uncle taps at his watch thoughtfully before settling back against the granite outcrop with a sigh. “I’ve missed lunch; I’m going to have to get takeout instead. Maybe hunter with a side serving of nephew you never learn.”
“And maybe you should do something about saving your beta and shut the hell up.”
“He’s not my anything. Yet. But after this? Well, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Peter’s smile is overwhelmingly satisfied. “Do you?”
No. And perhaps that irks Derek most of all. He’s played fair with the youngling, to a point. As much as he was able to commit to at the time, he has nothing to show for his efforts but childish tantrums and this.
Between them, in one way or another, his uncle and Kate have successfully torn the boy asunder.
Welcome to my world, kid.
Derek recalls when being what he is meant something other than blood and fear and death. He clings to those memories the way a child holds onto Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Laura always said he was a dreamer, would ruffle Derek’s hair and laugh at his ineffectual attempts to bat her away. Christ he misses her.
And Derek wonders. Wonders what he’s prepared to do to be part of a pack again and if he can live with the aftermath.
He thinks he can.
***
When Peter knocks on her door, her son’s been missing for five days. Five.
“Come with me,” he says. “I’ve found your son.”
Melissa goes.
To a pale blue house in the suburbs with floral curtains and a neatly manicured front lawn.
“My nurse used to own the place,” Peter explains opening the front door. “She’s moved on now.”
She’s running on nothing but adrenaline, her phone is still on kitchen counter at home and Melissa curses the lack of sleep that’s made her stupid. “Where is he!? Where’s my son?”
“What the hell have you done?” Derek Hale stands at the top of the stairs and although he seems to be addressing Peter looks about as pleased to see Melissa as she him.
A blood soaked towel that once upon a time could have been yellow twists slowly from his hand.
Oh god.
Peter catches her before she can open the door. His hands vice like around her arms and her struggles are futile.
“I never picked you for a potty mouth, Melissa. My, aren’t you full of surprises.”
And he tells her. He tells her before she can open the door that she needs to listen.
Listen and understand that neither he nor Derek did this. He tells Melissa how they found her son. How they fought to rescue him because her son is precious to them in ways she’ll know soon enough. And when he’s done, when he’s finished telling her of the people who killed his family and tortured Scott. When she’s crying and hanging limply in his grasp, Peter opens the door.
Melissa’s a nurse, she’s done trauma for years and even though this is Scott she’s foolish enough to believe she’d be prepared.
She’s not.
Four hours later she has enough comfort to see Scott healing before her very eyes, skin slowly crawling over exposed sinew and muscle. “I’ll be back in a moment, baby.” Melissa walks slowly into the bathroom down the hall and throws up what little remains in her stomach.
She finishes washing out her mouth to find Peter standing by the door, his expression a mixture of compassion and calculating assessment.
“Tell me,” she demands. “Tell me why. Tell me how,” and he nods.
“I’ll tell you everything,” Peter slides into the room and turns Melissa to face the mirror. He stands behind her tall and proud with a rage that burns like the sun. “I’ll tell you about the woman who tortured and raped your son, and Melissa? I’ll even go one better. I’ll tell you how we can kill her.”
***
Kate Argent thinks her brother needs to grow a pair. Let her grab that Stiles kid, maybe even Lord Fauntleroy Jackwhatever, let her tie them down for a while to have a nice long chat.
Ten days since the Alpha and Hale snatched the pup right from under her nose killing two hunters and wounding her professional pride in the process.
She’s better than that.
Better than Chris, though he’ll never admit it and this driving all over Beacon Hills? Boring.
“Oh my god! Enough of the driving round in circles already, can we please just find something to shoot!”
Chris hits the brakes so hard she almost goes through the windshield.
“Don’t,” he turns on her with snarl his hand around her neck. “Not another word out of you or by god I’ll send you packing like I should have. My daughter is so traumatized she can’t even speak, but she screamed when you walked into the room, Kate. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re capable of.”
The cell phone trills lightly on the floor at his feet.
She could do with a diversion right about now. Awesome. “I told you it was the Alpha and Hale,” she says. The cell phone keeps ringing. “You gonna answer that or shall we let the wolves kill someone else tonight?”
There’s distaste on her brother’s face as he lets her go, like he can’t get away from her fast enough.
As he answers the phone a howl rips through the perfect cookie cutter suburbia of Beacon Hills. Christ she hates this town, swore she’d never come back. Fucking werewolves.
Also? Totally unfair blaming her for Allison’s freak-out. Chris has protected his princess for too long, it’s made her a target and weak. No Argent should be weak. Ever.
Her brother closes the phone and just sits there, weighing it in his hand.
“Well?”
“Scott’s mother has returned home.”
“Alone?”
“We don’t know for sure. Automatic garage door and she drove straight in, closed the door before they could see anything. But there appears to be more movement in the house than there ought to be for one person.”
At last. Scott goes crying to mother and mother comes running. It’s almost embarrassing to think her niece dated the guy.
“She’s a nurse, right? Maybe he called her. We should drop by and see how she’s coping with that missing son and all,” and shoot the little shit before he can spill the beans to Chris or anyone else.
“I thought you said you didn’t touch him?”
Ah. Oops. “There were bullets flying everywhere, Chris. I can’t say we didn’t hit him but if we did it wasn’t on purpose.” Much.
Chris points a finger at her his face grim, words seem to fail him however and thank god for that. Kate’s getting tired of the lectures for being good at her job.
Another howl rattles the car windows.
Fucking werewolves.
***
Melissa McCall is tired, pale and less than pleased to see them.
“Ms McCall? I’m Chris Argent, Allison’s father. We met at the school a while ago.”
“You shot the cat,” she says, apropos to nothing.
“Yes,” Chris blinks and gentles his tone.”Yes I did. Do you mind if we come in? We wanted to see if you’d heard anything. My daughter’s very upset and worried about Scott. I don’t believe you’ve met Allison’s aunt? This is Kate.”
She steps aside, motioning them in without a word.
Kate brushes past them both, striding into the woman’s home like she owns the place. Subtle she is not; he should have told her to stay outside.
Melissa McCall’s face is a study of careful blankness as she tracks Kate roaming past every downstairs doorway, “I’m afraid I can’t offer you coffee,” she says. “I’ve only just returned from a friend’s house and haven’t had time to get groceries.”
“No, thank you. We’re fine.” There’s a frailty about her, like she’s been stretched too thin that Chris has seen all too often. Missing partners, missing children and sometimes, sometimes he’s been the cause of that grief. It’s not something he’s proud of, the necessary fallout that comes with saving lives as a hunter.
She leads them into the kitchen, to a small round table of lightly polished oak. They’ve barely sat down before Kate starts in with, “So, any news about Scott?”
Melissa’s head jerks upward; eyes narrow with unfeigned hostility.
Jesus, Kate. “I apologize for my sister’s bluntness, Ms McCall. The police have been keeping much of recent events close to their chest and as I said, we’re all very concerned and would like to offer any assistance we can.”
“Of course you would.”
It’s the sound that finally clues him in, her claws slowly gauging the table. No! Nononono.
Melissa McCall rips Kate’s throat out in a single blow.
Something blindsides him with so much force he’s airborne, his back hits the refrigerator before he can even draw his gun. A hand around his wrist, the grinding sound of bones breaking.
“Hello, Chris. It’s been a while. Thank you for the flowers at the hospital by the way, unfortunately roses aren’t really my thing.”
***
Allison wakes to the sound of her bedroom door closing with a repressed snick. Her mother probably. Or Dad. Not Kate. Never Kate, ever again.
It’s only when she feels the bed dip and someone settle beside her that she realizes she’s not alone.
The shaking starts all over again.
“Sshh. Shush. It’s okay, it’s me,” whisper soft. Scott.
She can’t look at him, she’ so ashamed.
He’s a solid wall of comfort at her back; his hand runs soothingly up and down her arm. He tells her that he’s okay, that he’s healed. Everything’s going to be okay, Allison.
Nothing is ever going to be okay ever again. “I’m sorry,” she talks to the wall. Can’t turn yet. Can’t look at him. “Oh god, Scott! I’m so so sorry. I didn’t. I didn’t.”
“Shush. I know you’re sorry. I know. And don’t worry, Derek will kill your Mom quick. She won’t feel a thing.”
Allison Argent dies in the arms of the boy she loves and Scott says he still loves her. He does. And he’s sorry, he really is.
But he hates her just that little bit more.
End Part 1
Music to download & listen by:
1: Figure 8 by Trust Company
2: Die By The Drop
3: The Matador by White Buffalo