SLOWLY BEING REWRITTEN!
People say we're products of our parents. that all of their good traits are passed onto us, that we pick up the bad traits along the way.
But what if our parents have no good traits? What does that make us?
Are we all bad?
K...
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code breaker
Kinsey sat in the back of the Jeep looking down at her blood-stained hands. She'd never forget how she'd been forced to leave her best friend when she was bleeding out and at her weakest, though Peter had been lenient in allowing her to call for Jackson's help retrieving Lydia she still couldn't forgive herself for leaving. She should have fought harder. She should have refused. Even after Stiles had had to drag her from the field kicking and screaming Kinsey felt nothing but guilt as she now sat safely in the back of Stiles's Jeep with the man who might have killed her best friend. And until Peter had deemed them no longer useful she'd be left unaware of whether Lydia had lived through her wounds, and if not, the blood was on her hands. Quite literally. When they would ask about Lydia and when people would say that Kinsey was the last one to be seen with her she'd be their first suspect, the one who would be blamed for her death. How would she explain to Allison that she had left Lydia when she was dying? If she couldn't forgive herself there was no chance Allison would ever forgive her, all because of Peter Hale. Now they were stuck with him for who knew how long, being forced to help him when he had made their lives a living hell when he'd tormented them for months. When he had scarred them. But of course, Peter didn't care about who he hurt if he got what he wanted, in that sense, he was similar to the girl's mother. She didn't care about those things either. The car was filled with nothing but the sound of Kinsey's heavy breathing from all of the screaming and sobbing she had done. Stiles kept his eyes on the road ahead, his blood boiling every time he caught a small glimpse of the wolf beside him in the corner of his eye. And Peter, once again, unphased.
She still wasn't sure what part she was playing in the man's plan, she had no idea how to hack into a computer or track a GPS on a phone, she wasn't the smart one. As far as she could see she served no purpose. Of course, she had seen him attack her best friend and could plead as a witness, but if he was that bothered she would tell he would have killed her like he threatened to. Nothing was stopping her from going to the Sheriff once he was done with them tonight, yet she was still alive and breathing. Which told her that she was more useful than she could see.
"Don't feel bad," Peter spoke up, breaking the silence that the two teenagers didn't want to be broken. They would have been happy to spend the whole night in silence, his presence was already too much for them. His words were unnecessary. They already hated him, they were already helping him. "If she lives, she'll become a werewolf. She'll be incredibly powerful."
"Yeah, and once a month she'll go out of her freaking mind and try to tear us apart." Stiles retorted in a bland tone to show how uninterested he was in making conversation with him. Kinsey hadn't thought about that side of things. The side where Lydia survives. Where she would become a werewolf like Scott, Derek, and Peter. When her best friend would become the very thing she had tried protecting her from for the duration of time she'd known about them. She'd failed in that mission. Lydia would have to learn to control as Scott did, to find some kind of anchor that would allow her to keep her human side intact. And it was poor timing on Peter's behalf. She was a teenage girl going through a breakup, going through trauma that he caused.
