Epilogue

---

In the dimly lit living room of his nephews loft, Peter Hale sat on a old, but clean, couch in the middle of the room. He was lent forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at his hands, which were occupied with a ripped and crumpled, but otherwise well kept, photograph.

His eyes hadn't left the picture since he had taken it out of his pocket, which could have be hours ago, he wasn't sure.

Occasionally, he would rub his thumb up and down the picture, trying to remember what it felt like to do that to the real thing. Unfortunately, it has been so many years that he cannot.

As a heavy sigh left him, the door to the loft had opened, alerting him that someone else was there. However, Peter had been so caught up on his memories and the photograph that he had not heard.

The door had only been opened a few inches before a head had peek though, the head of Stiles Stilinski, looking around the loft, possibly looking for something or someone, before noticing the oldest Hale sitting on the couch.

Stiles seemed confused that Peter hadn't said a sarcastic comment the moment he had opened the door. Something must be wrong.

Entering the loft, Stiles walked towards the Hale, surprised that Peter still wasn't aware of his presence. As he got closer to him, his eyes got caught on the movement of the man's hands. Looking down, he saw Peter's fingers move across the paper, almost caressing it. His eyes so full of emotion that Stiles nearly stopped walking.

Stiles was now behind Peter, who still hadn't sensed him, and glanced down a the paper that held the Hale's attention. He was confused to see it was a picture of a very beautiful, young women smiling widely, with a older man and women standing next to her, also smiling. The teenaged had also noticed that there were creases on either side of the women, which led Stiles to believe that the photo had been folded to just show the women, and not the other people.

His curiosity got the best of him as he asked quietly, "Who's that?"

Peter, not expecting anyone else to be there, jumped up for the couch and mentally cursed himself for not hearing him enter. He also felt very angry, he almost never aloud anyone to see the photograph, only Derek (And that was only twice), but now the boy he hated most had set his disgusting gaze upon the most beautiful women he had ever know.

Peter let out an annoyed growl, not quite a werewolf growl but enough to make Stiles shake.

"No one. Just forget it." He tried to seem calm but his voice was laced with anger. Not only at Stiles, but at himself for showing how weak he was.

However, Stiles Stubborn Stilinski wouldn't take that as an answer, he needed to know who that women was. What kind of women would make Peter show emotion other than anger and sarcasm? So he continued to ask, "But, who-"

The Hale then suddenly turned to the teenage, cutting him off, his eyes glowing bright blue. In his mind, he remembered the time when he had gold eyes, the ones that she had loved. He shook his head, trying to forget. But he never would. He never wanted to.

"Enough." He said, in a deep, menacing voice that had Stiles shivering.

It was silent for a few moments, before Stiles could hear two sets of heavy footsteps approaching the now open door. He took the chance to turn away from Peter's stare and towards the door.

Standing there, was Derek Hale and his best friend, Scott McCall.

Upon seeing the tense scene, and Peter's eyes which still hadn't left Stiles, Scott rushed to his friend making sure he wasn't injured. While Stiles confirmed that he was in fact alright, Derek had walked towards his uncle carefully.

"Peter?" He hesitantly called out, trying to keep a calm voice to calm the older man.

Surprisingly, this worked. Peter's eyes shifted back to their normal colour as he looked at his nephew. The look in his eyes made Derek frown.

His uncle looked angry and heartbroken at the same time. Derek had only seen this a few times, which meant...

The younger Hale looked at the ground a saw what he had suspected. The photograph. This made me release a sad sigh. Bending down, he gently picked it up, afraid that if he used anymore pressure it would break.

Standing back up, Derek turned the picture over so he could once again see the grinning face of Madison Page, his best friend. His uncle's mate. The women he still loves, even after all this time.

Derek could see Scott and Stiles watching on in confusion, either of them knowing who was on the picture. He guessed that Stiles had seen Madison and started to ask questions, which clearly wasn't a good idea.

Looking sadly at his uncle, he said, "Peter, you need to stop doing this to yourself. It's not healthy. It has been over ten years, you have to move on."

However, that wasn't a good thing to say to Peter as he looked at his nephew, almost offend, "Forget?" He asked, his voice disturbingly calm, "How can I forget? It was my fault she died! If I had been faster, if I had stop Liam and Dean, if I had just save her-" His voice was raising with each word but before he got to the point of shouting, his nephew cut in louder.

"Peter, it wasn't your fault! It was Liam and Dean. If there was anyone to blame it would be them, they were the ones who kill her! Not you, not me. Them."

Peter was quiet for a few short moment before saying in a broken tone, "It still doesn't make it any easier."

And with that, we walked towards Derek, gently picking up the photo, wiping non-existing dust off before walking out of the loft without a word.

Derek watched him leave before letting out a big sigh, running a hand through his hair and down his face. Even though he had strong feelings against his uncle, he still felt sorry for him. He lost the love of his life, he never got to tell her that he loved her or even that they were mates.

While the alpha was thinking of Madison, he had forgotten about the others in the loft with him. However, Stiles clearing his throat made him remember.

"So, what was that about?" Stiles questioned, sitting down on the couch, getting ready.

But Derek shook his head, "No. It's a personal problem between my family, well what's left of it," His heart ached at that, "I don't think you two should know."

As Scott sat down next to his friend, Stiles shot back at Derek, "But I think you owe us. How many times has Peter tried to kill us over the years we have known him? The least you could do is tell us."

Derek frown, he knew Stiles was right but he didn't think it was his place to talk about Madison, that was Peter's job. But Derek also knew that his uncle would never talk about her, and that the two teenagers would harasses him about it.

He sighed angrily, "Fine. Fine, I will tell you, but you can not mention any of this to Peter." He warned them.

Stiles held up three fingers saying, "Scouts honour."

The alpha already started to regret his decision.

---

A few hours had passed. Derek Hale was sat in front of Scott McCall, who was on the couch, while Stiles Stilinski paced back and forth, trying to process the information given to him.

"Do all werewolves have mates?" Was the first thing to come out of Stiles' mouth.

Hale turned to look at him with his eyebrow raised, "Seriously? After everything I just told you, that's the one thing that caught you attention?"

The man just shrugged, which led Derek to roll his eyes and turn to the more mature teenager in the room.

Scott was staring at his hands, his face showed the look of surprised, "Peter Hale, the man who went crazy and killed a lot of people, was in love once?"

Derek nodded sadly, "Yeah. He was."

"I can't believe it."

"The horrible thing is, Peter wasn't always power hungry. I just think her death broke him. For months, he hardly moved. Just sat in his room, staring at the wall for hours. He almost died a few times from the lack of food and water, sure, we all tried to help him but he didn't seem to see or hear us.

"A year after her death, he finally started to leave the house. But only to bars, using alcohol to drown out his pain, which never worked. Then he found a new painkiller, women. Everyday he would come home with either a new women on his arm, or smelling of women's perfume. It broke all of our hearts to see him like this, but that was better than him wasting away in his room.

"This continued for months, before Laura slapped some sense into him, literally. She made him realise that what he was doing wouldn't make him happy and that Madison wouldn't want him like that. And for the first time ever, I saw my uncle cry. He just...broke down. Right there. In her arms. It was almost like he had been holding all that back for months, all that pain.

"After that, Peter seemed better. But when I had told him of my feeling for Paige, he changed. He seemed angry, and bitter. He didn't like the fact that I had found someone and he had lost his someone. He got into my head, and made me think that Paige getting bitten was the only way.

"Since then until now, Peter hadn't changed much, he just seemed to get worse and worse as the years went on. The fire broke him completely, losing his mate and his family with only a few years separating them, he went crazy with grief.

"I think, the reason Peter was so desperate for power was because if he was powerful enough he would somehow save Madison. Maybe the years in between the fire and me becoming the alpha, he believed that, with enough power and strength, he could save her and keep her safe. Maybe he just blocked that out of his mind." Derek paused, finally looking between the teenagers before glancing down at his hands rubbing them together, "I don't know." He finished quietly.

Silence filled the loft. Derek was keeping his eyes on his rough hands, while Stiles and Scott shared a look. A look filled with multiple emotions that they couldn't name. Yes, they felt sorry for Peter Hale but their undying hate they have for him wasn't going anywhere soon.

---

Inside the dark, almost empty, apartment that belonged to Peter Hale, said man sat on the floor, his back pressed tightly against the cold wall, sending shivers down his back. However, he hardly noticed as his gaze was set on the picture that was in his palm, folded closed. His heart ached to see her grin again but he knew he couldn't.

Today was here again. 5th May. The day of Madison Page's death.

His mind flashed back to that moment on the cliff. The moment where he locked gazes with his mate for the very last time as her almost limp body fell, dragging her killer with her, over the cliff's edge.

The moment his life changed.

On every May 5th, he sat down and caressed the photographed, trying to remember her touch. And each year, he forgot more and more of her. He couldn't quiet remember her voice anymore, or the feel of her skin, her scent, her wolf eyes. Peter had a vague idea but that wasn't good enough, he needed to remember all of her. Or none of her.

That's when he decided this was the only way.

Standing up, he grabbed his trashcan and set it on top of his table. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a lighter, hardly ever used.

He looked at the closed photo, having the urge to see her face again but he fought against.

Raising it to the now turned on lighter, he set it alight before dropping it into the trashcan.

Peter watched the flames dance around, he had mixed feelings. Relief, that now he can finally move on. And regret, he just destroyed the only thing he had of Madison left.

But what's done it done.

He watched as the flames slowly died out, making his apartment darken with each passing second.

It perfectly matched what he was feeling.

When that flame dies out, so will the last of his soul.

Few minutes passed. The flame was gone.

And so was he.

---

The End.

---