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STALE BLOOD
(REWRITTEN)


THE HALE SIBLINGS MOVED INSIDE their barely standing family home; Carter no longer feeling comfortable sitting on the porch, pretending that she could still find peace sitting on bench where Laura used to assist her with simple math. Derek had just made it clear that the feeling of safety she felt while being away from Beacon Hills was just a childish illusion.

    Plus, outside she felt too exposed. What she really wanted to do was find a dark corner, place herself in it and glower at anything that came near. Instead, she angled one of the burnt kitchen chairs into one corner. Carter noticed that Derek had done the same opposite of her. Logically, they knew they were safe, but if either of them had learned one thing six years ago, it was that logic played a very tiny role in your life when your friends and family start dying.

    Carter looked around, silently appraising the charred remnants of her childhood home, ignoring the hallow feeling in her chest. "How did you find me anyway? I paid everything in cash, withdrew as much money from my account as I could after that night. I didn't want to leave a credit card trail when I left."

    "I know. You put a false name on the deed, no cars registered in your name, even though I saw one when I came to your house." Carter shrugged. When you've been running for more than six years, you learn a thing or two. "Every other year, you would pop up, take out a decent about of money, each time from a different family account and then you would disappear again."

    "How long have you been tracking me, Derek?"

    Derek's mouth twisted, a grimace of distaste. "I didn't want to; it was Laura's idea that we should keep track of everything you do – especially after what happened. I needed to know that you were still alive at all times – though not, apparently, doing a lot of living. Did you even talk to someone your age while you were up there?"

    "My life was perfectly fine, and none of your business. We made a deal, remember? That you and Laura would never contact me again – it was too dangerous. And, yes, if you must know, I did talk to people my own age, thank you very much."

    "Whatever you were doing in Canada was just a life, you weren't living. And you've turned yourself into a prisoner out of fear. You need to have at least a few people in your life, Car. Otherwise, you're just killing time and waiting for death."

    "Tell me what happened," Carter abruptly changed the subject knowing that the conversation was taking an undesirable turn.

    Derek kept his eyes on her. "I found her in the woods. She was lying on her side, with her entire body cut in half."

    Carter looked up in surprise. "It was an Argent?" It was unexpected – surprisingly. Werewolves, ever since the Hale fire, had been lying low in order to keep themselves protected; some even getting the hell out of dodge entirely. But the ritualistic mutualizing was all too familiar for Carter to think otherwise, the Argents had always had a knack for stringing up Omegas, sometimes even Betas, and cutting them in half with broad swords.

    "No," Derek said sternly. "The Argents didn't kill Laura – Peter did. He somehow healed himself enough to transition in order for him to kill Laura and become an Alpha, completing his healing in the process. He began slaughtering random people in town and even turning a teenage boy while doing so. Before he eventually caught up to Kate Argent, and killed her."

    Carter took a deep breath, trying to let everything sink in before she spoke. "What happened after he killed her?"

    "I killed him." Derek said solemnly, as though worried about Carter lashing out. "Well, don't look too upset, I mean, he did deserve it."

SILENT GUARDIAN ◦ STILINSKI; REWRITE [1]Where stories live. Discover now