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In the back seat of Scott’s truck, Eli had finally fallen asleep. Without taking his eyes off the road, Scott had been able to listen to Eli’s heartbeat slowed and his breathing even out.
Scott sighed softly. Now he had a little more time to try to think of something to say to Eli. The boy had sat in a grim silence that had filled the truck ever since they had left the lacrosse stadium, and Scott had wanted to say something — anything — to make things better.
He had had no luck. What could someone possibly say to a child who had just watched his father burn alive?
Scott didn’t think it was too arrogant for him to say that he had become proficient with crises. When people’s lives needed to be saved, he could find a way to save them. After all, he had faced down ruthless humans, bloodthirsty monsters, manipulated friends, and unstoppable forces of nature. When the stakes were survival, he had had no other choice.
What he had never seemed to become good at was what happened after the battle was over.
Most people never thought about the aftermath. There were lies that had to be told to the authorities, there were wounds — both physical and mental — that had to be healed, and if things had gone very wrong, which they so often did, there were bodies to be buried. Every single one of these tasks was hard and unrewarding work, so much so that people often chose to leave it to someone else. Scott found he never could do that, but that didn’t mean he had mastered doing those things well.
Most of the time — like tonight for instance — he ended up feeling helpless and in the way. He had stood there numbly and watched other people take charge of things. Mom and Chris had taken Allison back to the hospital. Since she was suddenly alive after being dead for fifteen years and no one understood how the demon had done it, she needed to get thoroughly checked out.
Noah, Jordan, and Mason had a huge crime scene to process, witnesses to console (and confuse), and Adrian Harris to prosecute. Doc had arrived in time to volunteer his expertise, and he had roped Malia, Liam and Hikari into working with him. Peter had predictably disappeared.
In the end, that had left Scott and Eli standing in clearing by themselves, and it brought home the fact that the boy was now Scott’s responsibility. Derek had asked him specifically to take care of Eli; it had been one of the last things Derek had said.
Derek was dead. Scott still couldn’t quite process it.
After the fire had died and the congratulations were finished, Scott had stood staring at that stupid stump. No one had asked about Eli; they all assumed that Scott would take care of him. It hadn’t crossed anyone’s mind that Scott might not honor Derek’s request. No one has asked if he felt up to the task.
No one ever had.
Scott rubbed at his temples. He couldn’t believe he was thinking like this. It was exactly what he had meant when he told himself he wasn’t good at the denouement. During battles, he could be confused, manipulated or just plain wrong, but as long as he had a clear goal to reach, he managed to focus on next steps. Now, with the smoke clearing, he was drifting. In the past, he would simply pretend that everything would go back to normal, even when he knew it wouldn’t.
That wasn’t a possibility this time. Eli needed someone. That someone had to be him. He had managed to get Eli to his truck which had been parked nearby without too much trouble. Eli hadn’t said much.
Scott had started driving, simply trying to get away from the Preserve and the smoking ashes on that damn stump. Finally, he decided to go to his mother’s house. It was someplace he thought about when he thought about comfort. The lights were on, which was weird. Mom would still be at the hospital.
For a second, he thought about driving past and going somewhere else, but he had been away from Beacon Hills for so long, he didn’t really know where else he could go. He wouldn’t go to Eli’s house; that would be cruel. Finally, he parked in the driveway. There was a car there, but he didn’t recognize it. Without looking, he checked to make sure that Eli was still asleep.
Scott got out of the truck as quietly as he could and stalked toward the porch, all his anxiety perversely vanishing with the chance that something was wrong. He pushed that thought away and moved to one of the windows.
He opened his senses, searching for clues. There were two oddly familiar heartbeats, neither of them showing agitation. He moved closed to the front door to see if he could pick up any scent.
“Oh,” he said softly to himself. Lydia and Jackson.
Even though he had lived in Los Angeles for a long time, his mother still insisted that he have a key to the house. He knew why she had insisted; she wanted him to feel he always had a place here in Beacon Hills.
If only it were that simple.
Once inside, he heard the shower running upstairs. He also heard someone moving around in the kitchen. That’s where he decided to head first.
Jackson had his head shoved in the refrigerator. He had his hands full of Tupperware.
Scott felt a surge of annoyance. “Feel free to make yourself at home.”
“I have.” Jackson tried to make himself sound nonchalant, but he stood up out of the refrigerator, food and all, very quickly.
“Hungry?”
“Famished. Apparently, being menaced by your old high-school chemistry teacher gives you an appetite.”
Scott immediate reaction was to find that line objectively funny. Instead of chuckling, however, his body revolted against that feeling. His throat constricted around the rage that suddenly boiled up from his gut.
Derek was dead.
Jackson was staring at Scott as if waiting for him to say something. To agree. To laugh. Or maybe even to complain. Instead, Scott took a deep breath the way Derek had taught him on a hospital roof so long ago. Jackson was exhausted.
“I’m glad you came back.”
Clearly, that wasn’t what Jackson expected him to say. “Don’t be glad. I told you I only did it for Lydia.”
“I know, but that doesn’t matter. I’m still glad you came.”
“You’re insufferable.” Jackson froze for a moment and then turned away to put the Tupperware on the counter. “This town sucks. It sucked fifteen years ago. It sucks now.”
Scott wasn’t sure if what he intended to say was going to be helpful or even welcome, but he had to try. Deaton had once told him that taking away a little pain could make quite a difference. “Is it really so different in London? Bad things happen everywhere.”
“Please. How many years has it been since you stepped foot across the city limits?”
“Ten years. And maybe that wasn’t the right thing to do. Maybe I am wishing right now that I had spent more time here. Maybe I regret not spending more time with--”
“Stop.” Jackson snapped.
“Jackson--”
“God, what is wrong with you? Shouldn’t you be happy that Allison is back?”
“I am happy.”
“Then be quiet and let me eat your mother’s leftovers in peace.”
“Don’t eat all of them.” Scott paused for a moment. “Eli might want some.”
“It sounds like you’re ready to be a dad, McCall.”
“Dr. McCall.”
Jackson squinted at him. “Are you serious?”
“I am a doctor of veterinary medicine. I have a diploma and everything.”
The corners of Jackson’s mouth turned up slightly. “What has this to do with me?”
Scott wasn’t going to let this go. “You started calling me McCall when I was sixteen, because you were the captain of the lacrosse team and I rode the bench. And I guess it was okay back then, but you’ve kept on doing it. From now on I want you to start calling me Dr. McCall.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, really. It doesn’t seem like you want to be friends, so I guess calling me Scott is out of the question.”
“We may not be friends, but we’re not strangers.”
Scott shook his head. “I haven’t seen you in thirteen years. Back then, you didn’t even know my name until lacrosse tryouts when I was a sophomore, and you were gone before lacrosse tryouts my junior year. Now you walk into my mother’s house like we’re having a sleep over.”
Jackson had put a piece of chicken to his lips. He paused and then slowly and deliberately ate it.
“I think I deserve the same respect you’d give someone you just met on the street, at least. Alternatively, you could call me Alpha McCall, if that’s easier for you.”
“I will not call you by that title or any other title. Do I have to remind you that I watched you let yourself get duct taped by Stiles and tortured with lacrosse balls? You also kidnapped me and put me in the back of a stolen van. Yeah, I owe you a little bit for what you did, but not that much.”
Scott smiled softly.
“Don’t go getting more obnoxious. What we put each other through, that doesn’t just go away with …” Jackson trailed off.
Time. Jackson was going to have said time.
“He’s dead, Jackson. It’s all right to let yourself feel something.”
“I don’t owe Derek anything. The only thing he ever did for me was give me exactly what I asked for and doing that nearly cost me everything. So, if you want to mourn for him, you go on right ahead. You don’t need my permission or my participation.”
Jackson was right about that. Scott had already begun to mourn. He would continue to mourn for a long time. “Do you need mine?”
Jackson stared back at him, but it wasn’t in anger. Deep inside Jackson something gave way, but Jackson would never admit it to Scott. “I’ll be fine. What are you doing here?”
“Eli’s asleep in my truck. I’m going to put him in the guest bedroom. Put that stuff in the dishwasher when you’re done.”
“Lydia needed a shower. And I’ll clean up after myself, Dr. McCall.”
Scott walked upstairs, giving Jackson some space. He’d wait in the hallway for Lydia to be finished with the room before bringing Eli in. Otherwise, it could be awkward for everyone involved.
He didn’t mind waiting, to be honest. He needed a little time to think. Once again, even though the battle was over he felt the ground shifting beneath his feet. He couldn’t figure out the reason why he had felt the need to confront Jackson in his mother’s kitchen, other than that one inescapable reason that hung around his neck like an anchor.
Derek was dead.
The cliche was that Derek’s passing wouldn’t seem real to him, but that wasn’t true. He had seen enough bodies, experienced the loss of so many people, that it felt very real. It felt normal.
It was why he had left Beacon Hills, after all.
Finally, Lydia turned the shower off. He could hear her moving about, though he didn’t listen too closely. She deserved her privacy.
Finally, Scott heard Lydia cross the room and open up the door. She had borrowed one of his mother’s bathrobes. Drying her hair with a towel, she regarded him wryly.
Scott bit his lip. “How are you doing?”
“Well, we’ve survived another monster attack. I almost forgot what that felt like.”
“Almost?”
“Almost.” She turned and walked back into the room, expecting him to follow.
“I’d thought you be a little happier.” Scott did follow her.
“I know, right? Allison is alive. I should be over the moon.” She stopped by the window. “Where is she?”
“Hospital. She’s been dead for over a decade; they want to do some tests.”
Lydia scoffed. “I am happy, you know, but …”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I think I do. I am happy, but I’m also …” Lydia struggled to find words. “I’m at a loss. Maybe you can help me.”
Scott wasn’t at all surprised. “I’ll try. Let me guess. You thought you were done with all this.”
“That’s it.” She pointed at him. “That’s exactly it. We were out. We survived. We went to college. I started a company in Seattle; you started a business in Los Angeles. We earned ourselves normal lives.”
Scott nodded. He understood exactly what Lydia meant. He stood there, waiting for her to continue, to speak the words she had to say. The words they shared even without ever having said them.
“And …” Lydia snapped her fingers. “Just like that it’s all back: monsters, revenge, fear, and death.”
Derek was dead. Scott clenched up again.
“So, what do we do now, Scott?”
“We go home.”
Lydia tilted her head the way she did when she felt someone had said profoundly stupid to her. “You mean I should drive back to Seattle and go to all the meetings I had my secretary reschedule for next week. You mean that nothing changes, except in the future, I fly down to Los Angeles once a week in order to spend time with Allison.”
“Well, I don’t know if she’s going to be in Los Angeles.”
Lydia raised one eyebrow. “There is no other place she is going to want to be.”
Scott took a deep breath and felt that strange mixture of joy and regret again.
“She loves you. You love her. Just like you did before. It’s amazing. But it means something else for me. I can’t go back to the way it was.”
“Why not?” Scott protested. “You made a life up there. A pretty great one.”
“Hmph. When I felt compelled to come down here, whom did I call? Jackson. I’ve visited Jackson and Ethan in London maybe five times in the last decade, but when something dark appeared on the horizon, when I needed help, I went to him. And when I got here and I saw you, I immediately felt better, because I still trust you more than anyone else in the world.”
Scott blinked. “Uh. I trust you, too. But this — what we just went through — shouldn’t ruin everything else.”
“It didn’t. I did.”
“Lydia.” He said it slowly. She was feeling bad, just like he was. He shoved everything he was feeling away so he could help her. He realized it felt natural; it felt comfortable.
“Its whole plan relied on me being unable to tell the difference between a premonition and a trick, and I couldn’t.”
“It was really good at fooling people.”
“This is my power, but I stopped using it. I told you before that not using it caused it to atrophy, so when that fox made its play, I was vulnerable. I made us all vulnerable.”
Scott wanted to defend Lydia from herself, but he knew from experience that’s not what she needed right now. However, he thought it best to change the subject. “Jackson thought it was about Stiles.”
Lydia laughed bitterly.
“You don’t-”
“Harris made me talk about it by threatening to shoot Jackson. He wanted to give the nogitsune a boost.” In what seemed to be a calm voice, she recounted the story of a recurring dream she had had about a car crash in which Stiles died, a dream she was sure was a premonition.
Scott didn’t believe her. “So, what did Stiles say when you told him?”
“I didn’t tell him.”
“Lie.”
She looked up at him, caught. Maybe she thought he was listening to her heartbeat. Scott wasn’t. He knew her too well.
“What do you think he said?” she countered.
“He came up with a half-dozen plans to stop it.”
Scott imagined it as clear as day. The conviction. The flailing.
Lydia nodded with a sad smile. “I didn’t tell Harris the real story. He didn’t need to know. Neither of them did.”
“They don’t know the two of you like I do. Stiles wouldn’t have let you break up with him over that.”
“Of course not. We talked and talked and talked about it, and then we stopped seeing each other. I didn’t want to watch him die. He didn’t want to die. But we also didn’t want to let this thing hang between us like some storm cloud. We didn’t want to plan our lives around supernatural ambiguity. We didn’t want to have to make up excuses to people why we couldn’t be in the same car.”
Scott came over and squatted down in front of her. “You wanted normal lives.”
“I loved him. I love him. He loved me. And in the end, I lost him for nothing. I pushed him away and pushed everyone else — including you — away, because when someone you love is nearby, you pay attention. I wanted to stop listening. I wanted a life where I could stop listening.”
“Lydia … I didn’t know.”
“And it was for nothing. That thing knew I couldn’t turn my back on Allison. She’d been dead for fifteen years, and she was still so important to me. Everyone is important to me, even though I’ve kept myself at a distance. How is any of this normal? I cut Stiles out of my life for something I could never really have.”
Lydia wiped her eyes.
Scott studied her face. He had missed her so much. He missed the way she chose to be vulnerable with him the way she so seldom was with anyone else. He wanted to help her.
“Call him.”
“What? It’s been years.”
“You love Stiles. I know he still loves you. You couldn’t make it work back then, but things change. Maybe something will happen, maybe it won’t, but you’ll never know until you try. You know how many times I thought my life was over? That I’d be alone forever . That I was going to die. That I had lost someone forever. But guess what? Things changed. There’s always hope.”
“Allison told you that.”
“She was right.” Scott leaned forward and kissed Lydia’s forehead. “You are a wonderful person. You always have been. No mistake you think you have made will change that.”
Lydia smiled at that. She whispered “Thanks.”
Scott stood up. “I’m going to bring Eli in now. Then we should eat something before Jackson completely empties the fridge. Maybe I’ll order pizza.”
“Okay. Let me get dressed.”
Going back downstairs, Scott almost sprinted out the front door. He had been gone too long. He didn’t want Eli to wake up alone.
Luckily, the exhausted teenager was still asleep.
Scott looked back at the house, thinking about what he had talked about with Jackson and Lydia. He knew that what he said to them was absolutely correct for the simple reason that it applied equally to him.
Jackson insistence on treating Beacon Hills and the people in it like it was perpetually sophomore year was simply a way for Jackson to avoid the indelible connections he had made and would always have. He may not have remained close to Derek, but the bond between alpha and beta couldn’t be severed so easily. He and Scott weren’t friends, but the things they had experienced together prevented them from ever being strangers.
Yet hadn’t Scott done the same? He hadn’t come back to Beacon Hills for a long time, treating the city as if it were a trap waiting to spring on him. But it was just a place; it couldn’t trap him. In any event, thirteen years had passed with only a few minor supernatural blips, even as the Nemeton had drawn more and more people here. Scott had had the right to move to Los Angeles — he had the right to stay there — just as Jackson had had the right to move to London, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t given up so much in order to exercise that right.
Scott could have had so much more time with Derek. He could have had so much more time with his mom. With Malia. With all the friends that still meant something to him. He enjoyed being in Los Angeles. but living elsewhere didn’t mean that he had (or even could) leave the past behind. All he had done by avoiding this place was avoid people he loved.
On the other hand, Lydia had done everything she could to have a normal life, and she now had to deal with guilt — which Scott knew from experience was hard to expunge even if it was baseless. In the future, that guilt might cause her to miss opportunities she would normally leap at.
Was Scott any better? His life in the big city had been tinged with melancholy because as ‘normal’ as he tried to be, he couldn’t change the past any more than Lydia could. She had feared being trapped by her powers in a life she hadn’t wanted. Scott feared being trapped by a duty he hadn’t asked for. But were those fears justified?
Scott wanted a normal life, but in many ways, he had had one! He hadn’t been a hermit. There were always going to be extra things, of course, like supernatural powers and enemies that might return without warning. He had lost friends and loves to Beacon Hills, but the last time Scott had checked, normal human beings experienced tragedy, too. And just like them, he had also been happy.
He guessed he had a semi-freakin’ normal life, after all.
Now, like Lydia and Jackson, he had a choice. He could let the pain of Derek’s death drag him down, or he could take up the opportunity that his older brother had given him: the chance to act as a father.
As he stood in his mother’s yard, Scott was suddenly struck with a wave of homesickness. He missed this place. It seemed strange, but he thought that maybe it was time to come home.
It was never too late to make the call. He would talk to Allison and Eli, of course, but he could move back to Beacon Hills. They might not object. Eli probably wouldn’t want to change schools at this point, and Chris lived here. As for work, he could open up the clinic again.
Or maybe they wouldn’t want to, but even if that happened, Scott wasn’t going to avoid his hometown and the people in it anymore. After all, they were a part of him no matter what.
Well, this was certainly different. He had a plan for after the battle.
He went to the truck and opened the door, laying a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. Eli woke up, confused.
“We’re here.”