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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damnatio memoriae
"Are we going to talk about it?" Kinsey asked, breaking the silence, surprised at herself for being the one to cave first, but silence with Scott wasn't something she could handle, especially not in such a desperate time. With everyone talking so little already, she needed as much conversation as she could get. Now that she was finally ready for it. Scott shrugged, feigning ignorance, telling her he didn't know what she meant. "Scott." Kinsey's voice broke under the pressure. "Please." She begged as he looked at her with sorrow, and slight surprise, and then, disappointment as he turned his head from her once again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, I wish things had been different, I do. I wish none of this had ever happened. But it did, and I can't change what I did. But I can't have you be mad at me about it forever. I did what I had to do, Scott. I didn't have another choice, he was going to hurt Stiles. If I could have done something else I-"
"It's fine." Scott cut her off, uninterested in hearing the reasoning she had for killing someone, if it was justified or not, his views on the matter remained the same.
"It's not fine." The brunette disagreed. "If it was fine you would be able to look at me, Scott. You don't think I can see the disgust in your eyes? You don't think it's the same look I have in my own every time I see myself in the mirror? I'm not proud of what I did. I didn't want to be like this, but sometimes... sometimes you end up in situations you never thought you would be in." The Angel trailed off, staring at the long road ahead, the guilt she felt now shared, he had been forced into a situation he never wanted to be in, multiple times, and he had forced her into some too.
There was a shared silence for a while as both considered the points that needed to be thought about, whether the trust that had been broken between them could be built up again, or if what she had done would be the end of their friendship.
"Did you like it?" Scott asked, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, unsure if it was a question he truly wanted the answer to, or if it would prove his nightmares to be true. That if it was ever him who killed someone, that he would enjoy it, that he would do it again, and become the nightmare he'd been having for over a year now.
Kinsey contemplated the question, she knew what answer Scott wanted, but she wasn't sure if it was the one she agreed with. Did the good outweigh the bad? The feeling of being a hero for the eternity of guilt? Was the euphoric feeling of that blood on her claws and the power it seemed to give to her worth everything she had lost? Her own innocence? Her friends? The ability to act like she wasn't becoming the very thing she once swore she would never become?
"It's not that simple." She told him, a vague answer, which she believed was the best option, the details kept to a minimum, that way, neither could hate the truth.
Scott nodded, it wasn't that simple, he could agree with that. For now, he left the matter there, it was something bound to be brought up again, perhaps for the rest of their lives the questions of the situation would continue to arise, but for now, he would put it aside and focus on the other matters of their life. He didn't focus on the pending problem that Parrish had called them for or the topic of Lydia, a sore subject for Kinsey, but the normal teenage conversation that should be expected from two friends—her recent breakup.
