Ghost | Derek Hale

LIES

"How is he?"

Everyone straightened up when Argent came back into the room. The man tiredly sighed and joined them as they sat around a table.

"He's resting," he answered, referring to Issac, "It will take awhile before he heals completely."

"But he'll be okay?" Scott asked worriedly.

Argent nodded.

As they sighed in relief, he noticed that Lydia held a small picture in her hand.

"What's that?"

Their attention directed on the girl as she held it up.

"I found this in the room Issac was being held in," she answered quietly.

She set it down in the middle of the table for all of them to see. The men looked at it first before Maia even tried. Their eyes all widened and they warily glanced at her.

"What?" she questioned, noticing their stares.

Scott ignored her and turned to Lydia, "How did you find it?"

"I don't know," the banshee shrugged, "I just felt...drawn to it. Like it was calling me."

Maia impatiently snatched the photo from its spot. Derek tried to catch it but she pulled away too quickly, standing up and moving out of his reach.

She took in the photo, observing the large family. It didn't look abnormal until she saw a younger version of herself on the edge. And even stranger, all of their eyes had a mysterious flash over them.

"What's this?" she asked, "Why am I in it?"

None of the others were sure if they should tell her the truth. They didn't know how she would react, especially since the newfound Maia cared about the rules on killing.

But Lydia felt complied to answer the girl, knowing she had too many questions that had gone unanswered.

"It's your family."

Derek glared at the banshee but she simply gazed at him with solemn eyes.

Maia glanced back and forth between the photo and the group. She suddenly felt a wave of guilt and sadness wash over her but she didn't know why.

"Did something happen to them?"

Scott conceded as well, falling prey to the tears that lined Maia's eyes, "They died."

She looked up at him. Her throat dried up seconds after the two words were spoken. Again, she didn't know why she felt the way she did.

"How?" she muttered.

Derek answered before anyone else could add in.

"A group of hunters found your house and killed everyone," he said quickly, "You were the only survivor."

The others glared subtly. He merely glanced at them, avoiding Maia's gaze. But as soon as she did, her sadness turned to suspicion.

"You're lying," she whispered.

He licked his lips nervously and opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off.

"You're lying because for the first time since I've come back, you can't look me in the eye," she stated, stepping closer with a powerful stride, "What really happened to them?"

He looked down at his feet and refused to answer. But she still pressed the matter.

"Did I do something?"

Again, silence. Not even the others dared to speak for the man. And with the lack of response, she thought the worst.

"Did I kill them?" she whispered, her face falling. Her eyes were line with unshed tears that hid in front of her shame.

Derek finally sighed in frustration and looked up, "It's more complicated than that-"

She swiftly grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him close in a threatening manner. The back of his body thumped against the table. Everyone else jumped back and let the two handle it.

Her eyes glowed red, completely out of her control. The back of his body thumped against the table. Everyone else jumped back and let the two handle it.

Her voice was strong but wavered at the same time, eager for answers yet afraid of what they would be.

"Did I kill them?" she repeated slowly.

His look conveyed all she needed to know.

After the silent answer, she slowly let go of her hold on him. She stumbled back a few steps, putting distancing between them.

He tried to reach out for her but she yanked her arm away. She swiftly brushed past them, heading towards the room Issac was in.

Once she got there, she slammed the door shut and took deep breaths. She pressed her head against the cool wood.

"Tough day, huh?"

She whirled around and saw Issac's eyes fluttered open. She quickly made her way towards him and sat on the edge of his bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered.

He dismissed it and rolled his head to the side. She observed all the cuts and bruises that crawled up his skin from his face all the way down to his chest. The blanket covered the rest of his wounded body.

"I guess you'll want answers," he rasped.

She shook her head and gave him a warm smile, "It can wait. You should just heal."

He reached over and lightly brushed her knuckles with his fingers. She got the hint and clutched his hand gently.

Only a moment passed before she felt a sting in her arm. The sting turned to a wave of pain running along her limb. When she looked down, she saw black veins running up both of their hands.

"What's happening?" she asked.

He smiled weakly, "You're taking my pain away."

His breathing became less labored. His chest sunk in relief and his muscles relaxed. Visibly, he looked better.

The black veins on their arms disappeared and she felt no more pain. The occurrence was a shock to her.

"I didn't know we could do that."

"One of the perks to being a werewolf."

She chuckled and let go of his hand. She turned to the side table and grabbed a damp rag. She dabbed the edges of it against the small cuts under his eye and above his eyebrows.

He winced and she apologized shortly. After a moment of silence, he grabbed her wrist and pulled it away.

"Maia, you deserve answers," he stated.

He suddenly went into a fit of coughs. His body jerked and he simultaneously groaned in pain from the movement.

Once it was over, she soothingly pushed him back down into a lying position and brushed his hair back.

"It's okay," she reassured, "You can give me answers later."

His eyes drifted shut and his head fell to the side.

"We're going home soon."

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