The Sicilian Defence [Derek Hale]

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Pulling my hands back up in front of my face I couldn't help but stare at his blood that coated them. They were shaking. He was dead...he was, he couldn't be. I never realised how empty my mind felt now but at this moment it felt like there was nothing there. I never understood how lonely it was in my head before Derek had come to my life.

"Oh my god.... oh my god," wiping the blood on my shirt trying to get it off, I fell back and away from him. He...he... oh my god. He was dead.

"You..." Scott's voice rung out through my senses and despite all the bullets and the sound of berserkers fighting that's all I could focus on, "the only one who knew as much as Argent about the Berserkers... about the Nagual. You taught Kate. You helped her. All for power." Peter.

The guilt. The urge to actually fight this time. It was all a trick.

"For my family's power... to be rightfully inherited by me. Not usurped by some idiot teenage boy so incorruptible, he won't shed the blood of his enemies even when justified. You don't deserve your power. Not power like this." Peter's voice growled out.

It was him. He was the reason Derek was dead. Why was it always him?

Rage flooded through my mind and all of it, everything, all I could think about was how much Peter deserved to die. How he'd deserved to die since the first time I'd ever encountered him and nothing could change my mind from that.

I don't remember racing through all the tunnels or the temples but Peter was in front of me now. Grabbing onto the back of his shirt, despite the lack of strength I had carried throughout everything, I tossed him to the other side of the room. It was so easy to do. "Gracie!?" Stiles called out as he fell to the side to prevent him from being hit by the flying annoying prick.

"Oh, I forgot about the adrenaline rush," Peter gritted out, pushing himself up to his feet.

I didn't care about his words though. It was his fault. All of this pain, all of this misery, ever since the Deadpool started that was all him. I'd forgiven him for the first time because he'd lost people; he wanted revenge but now... this was all his conscious decision to destroy everything.

"Power?!" I spat, "you did all of this for a power which you will never get?!"

Peter began to laugh as he stood to his feet, "you think you can defeat me? If you want to defeat me then you're going to have to kill me!" He roared. He leapt forward, but I wasn't about to let him kill me after he murdered the man that I love.

He swung his claws out, but I dodged to the side knocking my forearm into his to throw it off its course and just like that a new fight had begone. Every inch of training I'd ever done with Derek, every trick I ever learnt from the fights I'd watched or forced to be in, all of it was forgotten. This wasn't about tricks or techniques this was about surviving and killing the man who got Derek murdered. It was like the wolf that I'd spent so long trying to get rid off had finally decided that it didn't want to hide anymore.

"When will you learn that you're not a fighter, Grace," he mused laughing through another punch.

Grabbing onto his shirt I managed to slam him back into the wall, "and when will you learn that all of you violence is pointless!" I shouted, "he is dead!" Without thinking my hand shot through his chest and for a second I could feel his beating heart in my hand. "You killed him," the voice came out as a growl. A strong beating heart.

Staring over at Derek from across the bed, I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. His mind was so busy all the time and I could never distinguish what was going on in there. I wanted to know what he was thinking but he was so good at hiding it. "Are you going to stare at me all night or are you going to bed?" He droned his voice mushed into the pillow. He was lying on his front.