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Stiles

As soon as I walk back into the apartment, I know something about Val is different. Her heart is beating too fast, something it's never done before. She's breathing heavy, eyes darting from each face in the room. For the first time in, well, forever, she seems scared. I watch as her gaze lands on Max, Scott's son, and it lingers. They stare at each other, no, not staring... glaring. And then I see him smirk, a small motion, but one I caught instantly. This seems to irritate her more, she balls her fists.

My son is still staring at his mom, his face unreadable. Ella. I stop myself from looking at her. But my fathers heart pauses a beat at the sight, his eyes slowly move to Scott. Realization hitting.

Scott is half dead. His clothes are caked in blood, bullet holes covering his shirt and pants. He looks up weakly, seeing the sheriff and the utter disappointment on his face.

"Scott..." my father begins, genuinely shocked at what he's seeing. "What have you done?" The alpha coughs up blood. Spitting it on the ground beside him. But he doesn't respond. "That was my daughter in law." His voice wavers. "You just murdered my daughter in law."

"I didn't mean to." He whispers, wearily.

"What?" My dad blinks. "You what?"

"She wasn't meant to die. I swear. You have to believe me." He avoids my eyes.

"You broke into their apartment, blew their door off its hinges, and killed the first person you saw? Do you know how messed up that is? Did you even think about what your actions might cost you? Did you even think about your pack? Your family? You, Scott McCall, put a bullet into my daughter in laws head, and you didn't stop to think about the repercussions?"

"I'm sorry."

"You don't get to be sorry, Scott. What you did is unforgivable. You took my sons wife away from him, you took my grandkids mother. Did you even think about that?"

Scott finally looks at me. God knows I want to kill him. And believe me when I promise it will not be quick. "Val." I tear my gaze from his. "Keys." I hold my hand out, she drops the keys in my palm. I walk behind the chairs they are cuffed to and unlock all three of them. Unsurprisingly, both Liam and Deaton go right to Scott, making sure he's okay. "We have bigger problems to deal with, Scott. You know it." I look down. "I am willing to work with you and your pack until I solve this case, you need our help and I need yours." Val goes rigged beside me. "What do you say?"

"No." Scott chokes out, glancing up. "I will never work with him."

"Who? Void?" I laugh, but it has no humour. "He doesn't want to work with you either, I know that for a fact. And Scott, quite frankly, neither do I. "

"Good." Scott cherches his jaw.

At that moment, every supernatural creature in the room turn their head towards the door, all of us hearing footsteps running up the stairs. As whoever it is gets closer, I get a weird feeling in my chest, an odd taste in my mouth. Odd, but familier.

Very familier.

And then I see a girl appear in the doorway. Who I assume to be Scott's daughter. I begin to grin, but stop myself. That girl may look like his daughter, but only I know that it isn't. I look her up and down, noting that she doesn't seem faze by what she sees.

"Allison." Scott's eyes widen in fear. I roll my eyes. Of course he named her Allison. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw the sheriff driving down the street, speeding, I might add." She kind of smiles. "I wanted to see what it was all about." We lock eyes, staring at each other for just a second too long. "Who's this?" She tilts her head.

"I guess it depends on who you ask," I say, glancing at McCall. "But to you, I guess I'm the enemy."

"Dad?" She looks to Scott for reassurance. The colour has returned to his face, barely, as he stands. His eyes locked on mine.

"Get away from him, Allison."

My dad clears his throat, we all look at him. "I'm calling a pack meeting." He says. "Scott's house, thirty minutes. I expect everyone to be there, kids included." He looks at Scott, his eyes narrowing. "We all know that we have a problem on our hands, people are dying, and we will work together to fix it. Am I understood?" He ask, and everyone but Scott nods. "Scott." He stares at him. "Am I understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now everyone get out. I need to talk to my son." At that, Deaton is the first to leave, Liam behind him. Scott limps his way to the destroyed door, his wounds not yet healed. And I feel no remorse for him. I make eye contact with Allison McCall as she leaves, a small smirk on her face as she rounds the doorway. Soon, the only one left is Max. He and Val are still having an intense stare down, his face smug at the redness of my daughters cheeks. "Max." My father says. "You too buddy."

The boy listens, walking to the door. But before he leaves, he shoots Val a cocky half-grin, and she gets even redder.

I watch this roll out, confused. These two have never met, yet they are action like sworn enemies. In a way, they are... but if my kids want to be friends with Scott's, I have no problem with it. In fact, seeing at Max and Val are the same age, and Carter and Allison too, if they do become friends, it might even be a good thing. Their friendship might begin to mend the bond Scott and I broke when we last saw each other.

I take my gaze off Val and turn to my dad, who is staring at Ella. Despite knowing she isn't coming back to me, I try to find some sign that she isn't in fact dead, but I find nothing besides emptiness, her eyes glassed over and foggy.

"I met her only once." He says, not looking at me, but I can hear the guilt in his voice. "I'm so sorry, Stiles. Truly." He faces me, tears in his eyes. They move from my face to my daughters, who is also staring at her mother, expression blank.

"Dad." She whispers, more emotion in that single word than I have heard from her in her entire life. she steps towards her mothers body, dropping to her knees at her side. "Is she really dead?"

I blink back tears. "Val, go take you brother into your room."

"Is she dead?" She asks, louder. "Dad." She looks up at me. "She'll come back right? She'll wake up?" She is breathing heavier now, her jaw quivering as a tear falls down her cheek. "She has to, she has to wake up. Dad, please tell me she'll wake up."

"Val..."

"No. No. Please." Her eyes return to Ella, and my daughter grips her Moms shoulders, shaking her. "Mom. Mom, wake up. Please, wake up. Please." She repeats the word "please" over and over again, her voice slurring.

"Val." I crouch beside her, shaking my head. "She's not- she's not waking up, she's not coming back."

"No. You're wrong. You're wrong." She uses the palm of her hand to push me back. "You're a liar. You're lying." She continues to push me away.

"Val. Val, stop it."

"You're lying." She hits me again, and again, but each hit is weaker than the last, more tears flow down her face. I pull her into my arms, her tears soaking into my shirt, "you're lying." She struggles to pull away from me. "Liar." Her voice breaks. I hold onto her, my eyes closed as I try to keep my own tears from showing. No longer fighting back, she sinks into me, sobbing the words "liar" into my chest. "Lair."
"Liar."
"Liar."
And she keeps saying it, even though we both know I had not been lying.

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