'It was a long time ago. it doesn't matter anymore. and yet I cannot let it go. I cannot let it go.' sylvia plath.

season 2, episode 2
shape shift

Blood seeped from split skin, returning to the Earth as all things should. The girl tripped on her own two feet, sliding onto jagged rocks. Neviah sliced her small palm and bare knees. Her skin broke as she reached the end of her journey. Red painted the assortment of gray.

The birds perched above her laughed. Laughed at her pain, at her human curse to be traveled only by two limps. It laughed at her flaws, spotting them instantaneously. Sensing it within her. Beady eyes bored into hers. It flapped its reflective black feathers at her. A mockery.

"Shut up, you—you, ugly, stupid, stupid, thing!"

"Why are you arguing with a bird?" Derek asked his younger sister's friend. He stalked outside his house, having heard mutters coming close while glued on the couch watching TV. He preferred the silence. Fewer arguments between him and his siblings over what they would watch in the single hour they were allowed to pick.

Stuck to the ground, Neviah scrunched her face. She attempted to reel back a pout, but it still appeared the same. "Why are you ugly?"

"Someone's in a mood."

She plucked a pebble from her knee, spotted with blood. It left an indent in her skin. "Leave me alone."

"You're at my house, Nav. Why are you even here, you have school?" He crouched before her, taking her hand in his despite her hesitance. Thin skin peeled back, blood trickling down to her wrist, following her veins until he twisted her arm. He patted the excess blood with his blue shirt, not minding the stain.

"Why are you here? You have school," she retorted. She refused to make eye contact with him. Her blood was her focus. "Is it bad?" She closed one eye, peeking at her wound with the other.

He motioned her to lift her knee. Reluctantly, she did, taking a seat on the gravel. He inspected her like a doctor would, a parent maybe. Glancing at her every so often when he pressed near the wound to see if she would begin to cry. "You just need to clean it and put a band-aid on."

"You're lucky you don't get hurt," she claimed as he released her hand. She tucked it into her chest, coddling it.

"I can get hurt; I just heal better than you." He stood up, holding his hand for her to follow but she stayed on the ground. She searched above for her most recent enemy. "Did you walk here?"

"School's only fifteen minutes away from here," she muttered into her knees, knowing Derek would be able to hear her regardless. She left before her friends believed she was even there. They would continue with their day then return later to question her. That's if they realized. Lilith most likely would first and bring Neviah more problems.

"That's not—that's not the point. You're only eleven."

"You're only sixteen. That's four years difference."

"Whoa, who knew you could count."

The human bared her teeth as if it had significance. She had seen Cora do the same to her older siblings, glowing her eyes as she growled. Over mundane things. Frustrating the girl for fun. It resulted in the older two siblings getting yelled at by their parents.

Parents. They were the bane of Neviah's existence. Barely involved in her existence, besides her unfortunate creation (unfortunate only in her doe eyes). It wasn't like she needed school anyway. She learned more on her own than in a room filled with idiot boys like Stiles and Theo, who bugged her and took her attention from her books.

Her teachers knew her mind was capable of more. The evidence was clear. Yet they kept her in her grade with everyone else. Everyone else who never tried. They worried over which Pokémon cards they didn't have. They didn't try to excel, to be the best, to continuously do better. At the end of the day, they were praised and kissed goodnight on their little foreheads. They didn't need to impress their mothers with grades before realizing it wasn't enough. She wanted something more from Neviah. Something Neviah didn't have.

Derek could smell the storm of emotions brewing inside of her.

"Let's go inside, Nav. Get you cleaned up."

His hand laid out just before her face. She managed to appear younger as she looked up at him. "Are your parents here?"

He shook his head with a sigh. "Too busy, you know?"

Taking his hand with her non-injured one, she winced as she stood. "Yeah, I know."

Derek didn't know what to say. Teases and simple questions were as far as their conversations would take them. Rarely did they last longer than a handful of sentences before either got distracted by something. He had a closer relationship with Malikai than her.

Not purposefully, it only came out that way. Their relationship stood easier to manage than any other. No words, only whatever game interested them at the time. Derek associated Neviah with Lilith's mind games, Cora's tricks, and Harley's mischief. He knew she had to be the brains of all their schemes.

Neviah stuck to the girls, if not them then Talia Hale. Intrigued by the complexity of packs. How intertwined two packs could become. Banks and Hales. They stood by each other for nearly a century. Sharing members but managed to stay separate entities. They both contained their own hierarchy, spread out across the West Coast. Their alliance created fear within the other supernaturals. She wondered when her werewolf side would activate. Cora's gene activated after catching the flu. Abnormal according to Talia, typically it was triggered by puberty. The woman chalked it up to Cora's need to one-up her brother by being the youngest to turn.

"I don't want to go home. It's too quiet," Neviah began, limping as they grew farther from the forest line. Grumbling to herself couldn't have been more common. It filled the silence. A much better way than to keep it all in her head. It only seemed to seep out into a greater capacity with the presence of someone else. "Your house is better."

"Yeah, sure. I'd rather live alone than with ten thousand people coming and going."

"No...no you wouldn't."

Derek couldn't respond. He didn't have the words on his tongue, let alone in his mind. He knew he preferred the fullness of his home. Coming back from practice to the chaos that his family is. His mom and Peter argued over something minuscule when they both knew it held a bigger meaning that they never spoke of. Laura brought home Cora from ballet, with not a lick of fatigue in her. She could pounce around the large home for the rest of her life. Home to a full table every night, despite his anger and sadness, he had them. He never knew what it meant to be alone.

When the parties and sleepovers were over, returning to their homes, who did Neviah have to share her mundane issues of the day?

Only a cry in response.

It came from the forest, halting the children. As they shifted, sharing a look, it came back around. A cry. Young and naïve, whimpering for safety.

Neviah ran to it, ignoring the pain in her body. She had also ignored Derek calling her back. Her Converse crunching on leaves. Her chin tucked to her collarbone, fingers pressing away branches from her curly hair.

Finally catching up to her, Derek held his tongue back. Blood splattered, soaking into the ground. Metal claws dug into the brown fur, unable to disgust it. A fawn stuck between the jaws of a trap. It cried out.

"What? Why? What is that?" Neviah asked, unable to rip her eyes from the torn tissue and flesh.

"Bear trap," Derek let out in a breath. The blood was too fresh for his wounds. It reminded him of that night. Below, in the cellar. Holding her in his very arms. She cried out the same as the fawn. He saved her from the pain. "Hunters leave them out."

"Why?"

"To hunt...or keep things away."

"To eat?"

He managed to pull his eyes away from the mangled animal. Curiosity personified in front of him. Her eyes attached to the carrion. "Sometimes...sometimes they do it for the thrill. Catching something. Killing it."

Her silence deafened him. The cries grew louder, begging for help. For its mother.

"Will they get us?"

"No." He rested his hand on her shoulder. His mind filled with memories of her. He thought he could save her. They could be together forever. "We should go."

Her neck snapped to him; eyes wide, unable to close. "We can't leave it."

"It's dead! Going to, anyway. We need to go."

Neviah tugged away from him. He didn't dare use his amplified strength against her but nearly did at her behavior. She stumbled back before turning from him.

Attempting again, she pulled away. Bending over to the ground, she continued to pull away. Ignoring his attempts to bring her back. She didn't understand, nor did he. Blood coated his hands, tainting his eyes blue. She was still free of it.

In her small hands, scraped but no longer bleeding, she held something. Holding it over her head. A rock. Then released. Ending the pain of an innocent. Her body shook with every breath.

Derek could only stare. Observing Neviah's murder, or act of mercy. She saved the animal from a prolonged end. However, only Derek understood that it didn't feel like mercy. Murder stained, no matter how gently they tried to kill. Her heart grew quicker as did her breaths. In and out. Out and in. Adrenaline entered her system, circling through.

"It...I didn't. It was...pain..."

Derek didn't know what to do, what to say. He turned her around, engulfing her in his arms. His eyes trained on the fawn, relieved of pain rather than dying from it. The act took his mind off the question he should have asked himself earlier: who had placed the trap in the first place?

༻❁༺

TW // Sexual Assault Descriptions

A plastic water bottle appeared in Neviah's face. Barely able to peel her eyes open, she winced at the bright light stands recently added. Glaring up at the person who held it, the girl slapped it out of his hand. It pooled next to her. "Where were you?"

Derek clenched his jaw. He glanced at the leaking bottle. "Dealing with things. What's wrong with you?"

"Everything's wrong with me," she groaned. A majority of the pain had subsided, and memories were as clear as day. Still fragmented, but more than she ever had. And her anger towards Derek for leaving her behind came flooding back. She needed him. Then and now. He failed to show up for her. Just like everyone else. "You're supposed to be here. Helping me."

His eyes narrowed in defense. As much as he loved Neviah, her attitude had grown for the worse, making it hard to care for her. Neither of them had stayed the same. "I'm not your babysitter."

Her heart pounded inside of her. Her blood boiled at his words. Something in her vision shifted, everything became red. "Your family did this to me, then you killed the only person who was going to help me. So, I don't care what you were doing, you were supposed to help me!"

Derek stumbled backward. His hands slapped over his ears. He clamped his eyes tightly. Pulling his hand away, a warm sensation pooled in his ear canal. A single tap revealed blood.

Neviah gasped for air. A fire burst in her stomach. Rage. Glancing down, she noticed her nails elongated. Scales faded from her fingers.

The man meant to watch over her looked down with wide eyes. He reached into his pocket, grabbing his phone. "I'm calling your dad."

Neviah used the wall to pull herself to her feet. "He'll try to stop your plan."

"I can't help you, Neviah. I barely know what you are!" He shouted. Neviah flinched at his volume. Any leverage she had against him fell through. Pity and anger pooled in Derek's eyes. His little sister's best friend stood in agonizing pain— had been for hours—he could smell it from her. He loved her enough to help her. "He can help you."

She didn't see it as an act of love. She couldn't go back home. Not when she devoured a grown man whole. Not when talons grew from her nails. Her father wouldn't stand the sight of her—too close to the image of a woman he once loved. He would smell the blood on her, and see the flesh embedded between her teeth. How could he love his own daughter if she was becoming a monster?

He could barely love her before. Too many hours were spent investigating cases rather than raising his daughter. Implementing false memories of his care to make her forget his negligence. Intelligence was her sole solution. Be number one, be valedictorian, be the best. He will notice you. He used to be she.

It took an Alpha attack for him to notice his daughter. Would he accept her or abandon her?

Yet she still yearned for his acceptance. To have his love physically. A heart in her hand, beating because it loved her. Acting to make his love known.

Neviah didn't know what love was but wanted it more than the air she breathed.

"Please," Neviah whimpered, meeting Derek's eyes with tears gathering. "I can't...he'll hate me."

At the sound of her cries, Derek stepped forward. Hovering a hand of comfort over hers, he allowed her to complete the gap. "Why would he hate you? You're his daughter."

"I am her daughter, too," she spat, reminding Derek of the woman Kory failed to make him forget.

"Damian could never hate you." He pressed his words into a gentle squeeze. His eyes never left her. "...what did you do?"

Retracting her hand, Neviah leaned her back against the frigid wall. Sweat accumulated over her brow bone. Her eyes flittering the underground area. "I killed someone...ate him, I think."

"You-what?"

"It just happened!"

"How does eating someone just happen?"

"The same way coming back from the dead does! I don't know, Derek."

His silence churned inside of her. Conflicted by his own idea of her. She hated it. It rotted in her mouth. Very few people mattered to her, and their opinions of her could nearly sway her own version of herself. "Don't call him." Her voice contorted into a song when it hit the air. Neviah hadn't realized until Derek's once-green eyes turned completely white. "I'll go to him when I'm ready."

"Fine." He tucked his phone away and pulled away from Neviah. He blinked rapidly, scrunching his nose. "I'll order food later."

Neviah kept quiet, observing as he grabbed his tools and chains before retreating into the train cart. Glowing lights came from the metal box as Derek welded chains onto the walls. For his Betas when the time comes. For her.

The full moon neared. Oddly enough, Neviah could sense its effect on the tides. The idea of going home crossed her mind over the hours curled in a ball of pain. Her dad would have a clue about what she was going through and some idea of how he could help. At the first look at her, he would kiss her forehead, then tug her close. He would thank a god he didn't believe in for bringing her back to him. He would slowly hate her. Forget her the moment it really mattered. It wasn't just him.

Malikai would fear her. To see how unstable and uncontrollable she was becoming, he would observe her every movement, ready for the moment she became something unfathomable. He knew how to destroy her. Allison and Lydia wouldn't dare to be near her. They would be terrified of her. Scott, Harley. Stiles.

Oh, Stiles. Maybe he could still see her as she was. As he viewed her before, something worth saving. Even with blood stains on her teeth, flesh between them, and the stench of death on her tongue. She knew she was being ignorant. If only she was Scott, Stiles would try to help her. If she were Scott, things would be different. Perhaps she could have been saved long before this.

One thing stood clear for Neviah in her dark thoughts: she missed Mieczysław Stilinski. His annoyance, his tangents, his hazel eyes, and his freckles. Undetermined constellations scattered across his cheeks. She'd let him fix her if he could bear the monstrosity inside. He was the only one she knew who could piece her together and create something worth living.

She didn't deserve it though. She deserved the agonizing pain. She deserved to be helpless.

Rapid footsteps echoed down the metal staircase. A heartbeat racing, pounding against a ribcage. Lacking air, a boyish voice called out, "Derek? Derek!?" Isaac Lahey came down the stairs desperately.

"Isaac?" Neviah responded tiredly.

He skidded to a halt, freezing as a dead girl stood in front of him. He let out her name in a breath, "Neviah." His eyes bounced to where he smelled Derek, back to her. Back and forth. "But you're..."

Fear consumed the pretty, timid boy. Neviah got drunk on it. She wanted more of it—she hated herself for thinking that. "What happened?"

"Where's Derek?" he pleaded, fighting to dip into his indulgence. Neviah pulled back, sinking onto her makeshift bed.

"What's wrong?" Derek asked, putting down his welding gun as he exited the cart. The shadows veiled his appearance.

"My dad," Isaac started, stepping towards him. "I think he's dead."

Stepping from the shadows, Derek feared the worst. "What did you do?"

Isaac's eyes fluttered down. Somehow finding Neviah. He could never kill his dad. His heartbeat slowed. "That's the thing. It wasn't me."

Forced to deal with the consequences of his actions, Derek went out to see the damage caused. Whatever killed Camden Lahey had Isaac shaken up, far more than Neviah originally believed.

In her mind, she believed there were two outcomes of turning Isaac—besides if his body handled the process—either Isaac would stand up against his father resulting in: Camden fearing him, or dying at the hands of his own DNA.

A twist to learn something else intervened. At least neither of them had to deal with him again.

Neviah balanced herself on the wall, staring at Isaac's figure being engulfed by darkness. His head tucked in between his knees; hands stacked behind his neck. She stumbled to him. Her foot slammed into a broken piece of the concrete floor. "Ow!"

The blond shot his head up. Shifting to stand, Neviah waved him down. Her pain eased, she only fought against fatigue and hunger. She took a seat next to Isaac, saving space for a multitude of molecules to bounce around between them.

He remained small. He had never grown comfortable near her, even during their tutoring sessions. The silence was all Neviah knew of him. And that he sucked at chemistry and feared his dad. His responses were limited; accepting his faults and flaws that sparked confusion and further confusion when none of her explanations worked. He rarely sought help despite craving it. She didn't need him to ask—she knew the feeling all too well.

"How...how are you alive? The cops said you fell and drowned," he spoke, breaking the silence.

Neviah's eyes widened slightly. "I was pushed," she corrected, motioning with her hands. Her answer caused him to stare at her dumbfounded. She shrugged once his eyes were on her, tucking her arms beneath her legs. In a week underwater, her limbs lost muscle and fat. She could feel her bones protruding against her skin. "I just am. Supernatural shit, I guess."

"Is it like that for all of us?"

"I don't think I'm like you...a werewolf. I wasn't bitten—killed, remember."

"Yeah, how can you forget?"

"I wish I could," she confessed, staring beyond them. Their new home. Derek's underground house for run-away teenagers. When she thought of it like that, she wondered how soon he would become a felon again. Harboring runaways would only bring him more trouble. He was desperate.

Isaac grew silent, not knowing what to say, especially to her. He let her speak, going on and on about equations and outcomes. He let her teach him how to conceal his bruises. He let her help—of all people to be the first, he never thought it'd be her. He just would never tell her. He never thought he would tell her anything.

Neviah grew sick of silence. That's all Derek would be. Silent. Silently stalking around the building, making repairs silently, observing silently. He brought her food without saying a thing. He left without saying a word. He only spoke when she engaged first.

"Why'd you say yes?" she inquired for her own selfish desires. Had the choice been given to her, she probably would have said yes. To live without fear that someone could overpower you. To be able to defend yourself regardless of the attacker. To live how she had before, only better.

Who knew there could be something better than Neviah Degrace? She had.

"He gave a good pitch." His weak attempt at a joke made Neviah crack a smile. He reminded her of Malikai—if Malikai had been too scared to do anything. "It just seemed like a better option, you know? Becoming faster, stronger, and better, no one to fear except hunters. It's like being a hero, I guess. I'd choose that over being me, any day."

A moment of silence passed before he added, "I guess you wouldn't get it."

While she hadn't fully understood his perspective, she still became offended. She understood the best to her ability. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're Neviah. You're good at all your classes, the teachers like you, most of the students too. You have people who look over for you." He grew more confident as he spoke. His eyes scanned their environment. The words trickled from his mind to his mouth, somehow forgetting to survey the words before releasing them. "Everyone looked at you and actually noticed you. They would have cared if you disappeared. Well, they did."

"What?"

He shrugged. "You've been "dead" for a week. Everyone thinks you aren't coming back. You aren't there to ruin someone for looking at you wrong. No one really cares you're gone."

Neviah froze. The words hit her like a train. Rising to the top of Beacon Hills High School was never the plan. Her academics were all she cared about. Then it happened. Her first compliment; Lydia noticing her. She used her dad's career to punish a teenager for putting an epileptic student at risk. They feared she would ruin them. Their attention to her grew like wildfire. Her opinion mattered. Praised for the bare minimum.

Then she would return home, alone. No one to ask her about her day. No one to remember their opinion did not need to change her world. No one cared about her.

She made people care for her. To worry about her opinion. To rush to be the first to ask her how her day was. They saw her but did not see her.

She didn't even see herself.

"I didn't mean to—"

"If it's true, it's true." She met Isaac's blue eyes, concern laced them. Not for hurting her, but the possibility of her hurting him. "No need to be scared, Isaac."

She could hear his heartbeat racing. He didn't believe her. Not that she would either. It made her sick. Had she been this cruel to enlist terror into others? He flinched at her movement like she was his father. Was she as bad as him?

Isaac's eyes remained on her. He knew two versions of her: the one everyone feared, and the one who helped him. He couldn't decipher where the line was drawn to separate the two. How did they co-exist inside of her? Did it hold any value anymore? They were at the same level, nobodies who were cast aside to help Derek. They were all desperate for something greater than what they hold now. "It's not like it matters, anymore. They're human, and we're...better."

His attempt to make her feel better only made her feel worse. She tried not to care what people thought of her because she knew it would never change. Now that it had, what was left of her? What part of her was crafted by false memories and the importance of opinions? What part of her would be left without it?

They saw her the way she was beginning to see. A king could only ever be loved or feared.

Neviah realized she was never a king. Only a girl who couldn't bear to be herself. Her hands shook in her lap. But who was she?

She stood up, ignoring Isaac's eyes. "If Derek comes back, tell him I got hungry."

Not waiting for an answer, she escaped from under the ground. Air returned to her lungs. Visible in front of her, the city in Beacon Hills County lit. Parties roared, echoing through the streets. Stumbling drunks, laughing at each other. Drunken happiness disguised their pain. They had nowhere to go and everywhere to be.

She yearned for the alcoholic burn dragging down her throat. Her rough edges would soften with liquor. Memories would fade. She would lose herself to the substance. No one would notice the hate she held for herself. Not even her. She wanted to drown in the hatred. It was all she knew, and she knew she deserved it.

Following the drunks, Neviah stumbled through the streets. Sounds amplifying in her brain. Reverberating within her skull, the world quaked before her. Nothing made sense, then again, when had it ever? She tried making sense of it as a child. Human logic didn't apply to the supernatural. Things followed an order within—instinct.

It sent her senses in a haywire. Stepping into a puddle, she had forgotten she never put on shoes. Then again, Derek never got her any.

Cringing at the sensation as it traveled up her body, a hand grasped her shoulder. Reddene eyes emphasized crazy blue.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Covered in a patchy beard and yellow stained teeth, a whiff of cigarettes seeped from his tongue. "You seem lost."

Neviah shrugged off her shoulder, altering her balance. He attempted to help her, reaching for her waist. "Leave me alone. Please."

"What?" He said with a growing grin and wandering eyes. "I'm only helping."

Backing herself into a wall, the man stepped forward. The streetlight flickered above them. His face towered over her, illuminated by a neon green light. "I don't want your help. Leave."

He narrowed his eyes, noting the features on her face. "I know you..." He spoke slowly, slurring his words. "You're one of the missing girls. I wonder what's my prize for returning you?"

His breath grazed her neck. Every alarm inside of Neviah rang. A fire sparked, engulfing her whole. "I said leave!"

Shoving him into the light, no one noticed them. If they had, they kept their eyes down, speed walking away. No one cared. Even if she was someone else, they would have never cared. Like her. The spark.

A girl, her age, flickered in her mind. For a moment, Neviah became her under his gaze. Salivating beast of a man. His breath hovered over her skin. Goosebumps grew as her stomach dropped. His hands colonized her body. He believed he could have it for himself. He ravaged upon a fawn.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, whor—"

"Stay quiet."

His face aggravated her. His eyes bulged with how wide he managed to spread them, unable to look away. Worried about what would happen to him when he became the prey. Had he forgotten that girl so easily? Her cries echoed in Neviah's head. Neviah did not know her for who she was. All Neviah had of her was her suffering. Something inside of her urged her to make a mockery of him. For her.

Neviah's hand gripped the base of his neck, dragging him into the shadows.

"No one will miss you." Her teeth shifted in her mouth, expanding in length as did her nails. His eyes widened at the sight of scales rising from her skin.

His voice came from her throat. His eyes widen at the mimicry. Words lodged in his mind; confusion barely frizzled, and he could not speak. Pressure built in his chest. Heaving as the girl had. He couldn't beg like she had. Tears rushed down his cheeks as hers had.

Neviah saw her. She made herself small. Adorning loose-fitting clothes, she held herself in bed.

Neviah didn't understand how. Her breath hitched. It felt right, to have the man under her foot in fear. He quivered at her monstrosity. It somehow felt wrong. Her rage had grown from the girl's. This wasn't for her own benefit. She wasn't forced to do this. It was an obligation to the girl.

The girl faded into thin air. Her hatred remained in Neviah. Her voice rang in Neviah's head.

I want him dead.

Her body wasn't hers to command. Her talon drove into his gullet. Blood gushed from the valleys she carved. He gargled for air, for life. His hands moved to press on his wounds. It did nothing. Red coated his hands, pooling around them. Neviah didn't think humans had a light inside of them, but she watched his fade from his eyes.

She had done it. She slaughtered the beast for the fawn. It was for her. She wanted it. He didn't deserve to live unpunished. He hurt for his own greed. He didn't deserve her mercy.

A gasp clawed out of Neviah. Tears slipped from her eyes. His blood coated her hands. Her talons and scales reverted to normal. The blood remained. Her body shook with a sob.

She was like him, was she? She may weep, but the blood still stained her face as she wiped her tears. Their reasons might have differed, but mercy wasn't found in their mind. A senseless need to follow their desires. It always ended in blood pooling at her feet and guilt devouring her whole.

Guilt wouldn't absolve her of the harm she brought.

Cardboard crumbled behind her. A boot crinkled under the pressure of a step. She froze. Staring at her work, she did this. She was caught red-handed. Nothing she could say or do would fix this. She killed someone.

In six years, Derek learned there will always be the hunted and the hunter. Prey and predator. It mattered who you chose to be. At the hands of plenty of hunters, his guilt never grew with their death toll. Their deaths were a result of their actions, not his. They believed they deserved to decide who was worthy of a life.

"Neviah." Her frozen body moved. It shook with a sob once again. She refused to turn around and let him see her. A gasp ripped through her, again and again, as an attempt to gain control of herself. She didn't know where to begin to find control.

He surrounded her with his leather jacket before filling her line of sight. He may have gotten the chance to get away and grow, but she hadn't. He saw it in her face. A child who tried to drown her youth to grow. All those years of wanting to be a werewolf like him, Neviah never knew of the other side. She forced her head down, covering her shame in the shadows. Their existence may have started as a curse, but they were anything but.

"You were protecting yourself in the only way you know how." He pulled her into his chest. The blood and tears smeared across his white shirt. Her cries turned silent; her body jolted with each gasp. He held her the way his mother had after Paige. "We have to choose whether it'll be us or them who gets killed." Only he lacked his mother's gentleness. He forced her head upward to look at him. Tears bundled in her eyes. "You have to choose you every time."

Edited: 11/13/2024