Back in March, I realized I needed a break. As much of a break as I could take while still functioning. I had a mental/physical breakdown and my health really took a swan dive. I haven't talked about it much, but the past year has been really rough. My dad got diagnosed with cancer, my grandma passed away, and my cat got really sick and passed away. I tried really hard to pretend I was fine and everything could go on as normal, but something flipped in my brain in March and I just completely shut down. I started avoiding everything. Some days, I just couldn't even go to work and used up sick time as soon as I earned it. I've had the worst fucking brain fog and I feel like I'm just surviving most days. I'm doing my best not to push myself, though. I don't want to burn out as soon as I find some sort of spark again. But right now, everything is just difficult. Some days are better than others, but there's always a lingering sadness that just won't go away. But I'm okay. I'm doing my best and eventually (I hope) it will get better.
I don't know how much longer it'll take me to get back to a place where I'm more active here again. But I do miss y'all and I'm grateful for everyone who has reached out and sent kind messages.
I hope you're all doing well. And I hope to check back in again soon. 💖💖💖
Reblogging this from my main blog and adding:
I am writing a little at a time. I just don't have the mental energy/focus to write. So, I will eventually get to a place where I'll be able to write again and post again and interact again.
My hiatus has lasted a lot longer than I thought it would. But I just wanted to thank everyone for being so kind and understanding. I appreciate y'all so much.
Hopefully, it won't be too much longer until I'm back at it. I miss writing. I miss y'all. And I miss feeling something other than anxiety/depression.
I hope y'all are doing well. 💖
F - fluff S - smut A - angst
♡ - series ☆ - one shot ◇ - imagines and drabbles
last updated - 20/05/2026
@bubbly-parker ——————————
☆ isaac lahey x witch!afab!reader | F.
⤷ “don't even start again. just let me help without complaining for once.” a small “why” was all you could muster in return, too tired to start a whole argument. “what do you mean, why? to make sure you're fine, obviously." “in case you haven't noticed, but it's always me looking after you.”
@crownjewel123 ——————————
☆ isaac lahey x fem!reader | F.
⤷ isaac lahey is a cute guy. anyone with eyes can see it. it’s become a sort of, tradition, on the girls cheer team to confess to their crushes in unconventional ways. what way exactly?‘ borrowing’ a guys jersey and wearing it at the game.
@deerfawnn ——————————
☆ heartbeat | F.
⤷ isaac can hear your racing heartbeat
@everlastingdreams ——————————
☆ theft of the heart | F.
⤷ you are new at the beacon hills high school and catch the attention of a certain lacrosse player. being too shy to interact properly leads to awkward situations.
@fangirl-writes ——————————
☆ tell you want this | S. A.
⤷ in a life that is constantly on the move, you appreciate the small moments much more. especially if they're with isaac.
@fclsebnnyodair ——————————
☆ isaac lahey who loves to admire his pretty girl while she’s getting ready! | F.
⤷ you and isaac are heading out to lydia’s party and he can’t keep his eyes off you while you are internally struggling to choose what shoes to wear.
☆ isaac lahey secretly loves when his girl gets all needy and clingy with him! | F.
⤷ you and isaac are cuddling and he loves teasing you about how needy you can get sometimes, even when he doesn’t mind a bit.
@imagine-you ——————————
♡ the wolves keep scratching at my heart | F. A.
⤷ growing up as a human in the hale pack wasn't easy, but you wouldn't have traded it for anything. when you're twelve, a fire takes away most of your family, except for your father and two of your cousins. you're adopted by a kind deputy and officially become a part of the stilinski family since your father can't care for you and your cousins have fled town. you think life can't possibly get any more complicated until you're eighteen and your brother's best friend gets bitten by a rogue alpha out in the preserve.
@imagines4thefandoms ——————————
☆ bad dreams | F. A.
⤷ it’s been a couple days since you’ve had a decent night of sleep. if it wasn’t the worry of school keeping you up it's the fact that people are being ritualistically sacrificed, or the alpha pack, or a hunter coming into town and killing your friends. so normal teenage worries. it’s hard to actually sleep when you're terrified that someone is going to die.
@lfzyxf ——————————
☆ isaac lahey x reader | F.
⤷ it’s easy to forget that even in beacon hills, california the weather gets colder during the winter. so easy that you’re now sitting in class shivering and struggling to focus on whatever coach is saying. you pull the sleeves of your sweater down to cover your hands before rubbing them over your hands, trying to warm yourself up.
◇ this drabble | F.
⤷ it’s difficult to get some privacy when you’re constantly surrounded by your friends.
@loverslodge ——————————
☆ the only girl i like | F. S. A.
⤷ a night of research leads to a confession
@perseephoneee ——————————
☆ ask me to dance? | F.
⤷ it never really got cold in beacon hills, considering it was located in california. still, when temperatures started to fall to a mild climate, it signaled to the teen population that winter was fast approaching. and with that came winter ball. which is all you've been able to think about.
☆ i was scared for you | F. A.
⤷ you get hurt in a fight while helping the mccall pack and a particular wolf comes to check in on you
☆ letters back and forth | F.
⤷ you’re a were-jaguar that left beacon hills after your parents got killed and you finally return to reconnect.
@renjunniex ——————————
♡ thank you, for being you | F. A.
⤷ after everything that happened with peter had finally been resolved it was time to watch over lydia, unfortunately not everything goes to plan.
@s0urw00lf ——————————
♡ your protector | F.
⤷ isaac has been extra protective since you joined him in the supernatural world
@s9fti3 ——————————
◇ this blurb
@sexualtensiongrowing21 ——————————
♡ you owe me | A.
⤷ “i owe you $20 not a day of pretending to date you to get him off your back.”
@sinsilk ——————————
☆ heaven knows | F. - [smau]
⤷ social media/ college au with the pack
@so-long-soldier-writes ——————————
☆ study buddies | F.
⤷ isaac asks you for help in chemistry. you agree on one condition.
@sundrop-writes ——————————
☆ claustrophobia | A.
⤷ "did it have to be a closet?" isaac let out a dry chuckle, a seemingly nervous laugh as he eyed up the space apprehensively before stepping inside, putting some of the supplies on one of the shelves.
☆ protective | A.
⤷ during his first full moon, isaac needs to think of something to ground him - to keep his newfound powers from getting out of control. derek suggests that he use anger, and he knows that scott grounds himself with his love for allison. isaac finds something in between - thinking of the anger he feels when you get hurt.
☆ why am i the one? | S. A.
⤷ isaac loves you. he loves you more than anything else in the world - which is exactly why he has stayed away from you for so long. but when derek kicks him out onto the street in the pouring rain with absolutely no warning and no reasoning as to why, Isaac has nowhere else to go. he could claim that he sought you out because you're close by, because he knows that you won't turn him away in his time of need - but deep down, it's because he misses you. and staying away from you for so long is the hardest, stupidest thing he has ever done.
@thesewordsareallihavetogive ——————————
♡ real is the love | F. A.
⤷ isaac, well past his supernatural teenage troubles, has settled down with his girlfriend, y/n. they're both advancing in their careers when a surprise pregnancy throws them for a loop. the next several months are filled with lots of laughs, love, odd cravings, and a few tears. as always, peace only lasts for so long in beacon hills...
@totallynotashieldagent ——————————
☆ didn't mean to (totally did) | F. S. A.
⤷ isaac accidentally bit reader and now they're bonded. only problem? he didn't tell her that he's a werewolf yet.
@voidangxls ——————————
☆ stood in | F.
⤷ it was valentines day and your date stood you up and when isaac finds out he tries to fix your night.
I just wanted to stop by and express my ardent admiration for These Wolves Keep On Scratching At My Heart (I think about it often <3) and share this book cover I made for it! I hope you're healing well and feeling better!!!
I've honestly been so depressed lately and having such a hard time with just about everything. I haven't really been on Tumblr or the internet at all, but decided to check this morning before work and saw this. It made me feel so loved and seen and cared about. I can't express to you just how much this means to me that you took the time to make this for my fic!! Thank you so, so much. It means so much to me and if you're okay with it, I want to show it off with the next chapter? Thank you so much!! 💖💖💖💖💖
It might take me a while to update anything. I have been dealing with some health issues this week and have been in and out of the doctor's office. I'll still be writing and working on things, just not posting for probably a few weeks while I try to take care of myself.
Thank you to everyone for patience, kindness, and support. 💖💖💖
Doomsday Is Close At Hand [Leon Kennedy/Reader] (1/?)
Summary: You get a call in the middle of the night from your ex’s little sister begging you to return to the city that ruined your life. You agree to help her track down Chris, but a random twist of fate sends Leon Kennedy stumbling into your life instead. You don’t know what to make of him at first, but as you’re forced to fight the undead and uncover Umbrella’s darkest secrets at his side, you start to realize that he might just be what you’ve needed all along.
Word Count: 4.3k
Author's Notes: I've wanted to write for Leon for so, so long, but I could never settle on an idea until a couple of days ago. This will take place over the course of several games which I will add to the tags as I go along. I'm writing this as I replay the games. I hope you enjoy! And if you do, please let me know. This fic does have a playlist you can find HERE if you're interested!
Read On AO3 // Fic Masterlist [coming soon] // Join a Taglist
There was a ringing in your ears as you tried to lift your head. Your vision blurred, smoke rising from the flames engulfing the buildings around you making it hard to see.
You wanted to get up. You should get up. But it felt like your body was weighed down by an invisible force, threatening to crush you against the dirt and gravel beneath you.
“Y/N!” A voice pierced the chaos unfolding around you. “I need you!”
Your heart was beating so fast you could feel it practically rocking your body with its pulse.
“Help!” The voice sounded farther away now. It wouldn’t take long at all before the person pleading for you would be out of your reach.
The ringing grew louder as the voice faded. You couldn’t see them, but you knew you would recognize that voice anywhere.
“Chris,” you gasped as you sat up, sweat making your shirt stick to your skin.
The fire and smoke were gone, but the ringing still persisted.
“Fuck,” you groaned when you realized it was because someone was calling you. You forced yourself to reach for your phone, twisting awkwardly to grab the receiver before the call could be turned over to your answering machine. “What?” You answered the phone, wondering who the fuck would wake you up in the middle of the night.
“Shit,” you heard the person sigh. “I did it again, didn’t I?”
“Claire,” you groaned, forcing yourself to sit up, the phone cord stretched far enough you had to reach out and pull the cradle closer so you wouldn’t have to worry about disconnecting the call. You managed to get a glimpse of your alarm clock and fought the urge to roll your eyes. “It’s four in the morning. What’s going on?”
“It’s Chris,” Claire said. “And I’m sorry to wake you up in the middle of the night again, but I think something’s wrong.”
You thought about your dream. Chris had been calling out for help. There was a sharp twist in your gut at the memory of hearing him cry out that he needed you. But it had just been a dream. It didn’t mean anything.
“What do you mean you think something’s wrong? When’s the last time you spoke to him?”
You sat up, letting your legs swing over the edge of the bed so you could put your feet on the floor.
“That’s the thing,” Claire said. “I haven’t been able to reach him in weeks. About two months.”
“Shit,” you sighed, leaning forward until you could put your elbow on your knee, the phone still pressed to your ear. “So, what’s your plan?”
“Well,” Claire started, her tone betraying the fact you were about to hate whatever she said next. “I know you said you never wanted to go back there, but I don’t want to do this without you. Chris listens to you. If we need to pull him out of the fire,” she let the sentence hang there, allowing you to fill in the rest for yourself.
“Raccoon City,” you surmised. You had spent years trying to forget the place even existed. It was the source of nightmares for you. It was the last straw signaling the end of your relationship with Chris.
It was a fucking cesspool of doom and ruin.
“I can go without you,” Claire prompted without speaking further, knowing you wouldn’t let her get that far.
“No,” you decided. “If you go, then I go.”
“Thanks,” Claire said, relief clear in her voice. “I’ll be there soon.”
“Claire,” you murmured. “Where the fuck are you?”
“Payphone outside the library,” she informed you before hanging up.
The library was only about a five minute drive from your apartment. With the way Claire drove, she’d be there in two.
“Fuck,” you groaned before forcing yourself to get up.
“Thanks for this,” Claire told you as you let her into your apartment. “Place looks good.”
“Claire,” you sighed. “Most people would wait until the morning before dropping in on someone.”
Claire didn’t say anything for a moment, choosing instead to stare at your couch with its worn fabric and squeaky springs.
“I just have a bad feeling about this,” Claire finally broke her silence. “And I can do this alone. But you know Chris almost better than I do.” She turned to look at you. “I’ve known you for over half my life. I trust you and I know that if something’s wrong, then you’re the person I want in my corner.”
It was your turn to stare at a random spot in the room, unable to meet her gaze.
Claire knew what Raccoon City meant to you. If she was here asking you to brave the shithole, then you knew it was for good reason.
“We’ll leave tomorrow after breakfast,” you told her. “Get some sleep,” you added, gesturing towards your couch. “We should make it there by tomorrow evening.”
“Thanks,” Claire said, moving to set her bag down beside your couch.
You had never known if it was coincidence or by design you ended up less than a day’s drive away from the city that had stolen your life. It had kept you close enough to Chris that you saw him a couple of times a year. He drifted in and out of your life like a ghost whose hauntings you yearned for when you started to feel the creeping sense of loneliness that ate away at you. Late night diner catchups and occasional phone calls had become normal for the two of you. It was enough to fill the void he left in your life, but never enough to sate the intimacy you craved. It always left you wondering what your life would have been like if you had just agreed to join Chris in Racoon City. But a part of you knew that it wasn’t really where you belonged.
And as years passed, you came to the conclusion that he wasn’t really who you belonged with either.
Dread clouded your every thought as time passed. You felt like time skipped forward in an effort to torture you, wanting to send you back to the place you hated more than anything.
“So,” you said, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel in a poor attempt to abate the restlessness that plagued you the closer you got to Raccoon City. “What’s the plan?”
“I think we should check the police station first. Maybe he’s just tied up in work or a case or something.”
“And after that?”
“Maybe he’ll be at his house,” she guessed, shrugging her shoulders. She leaned forward in her seat, attempting to get a better look at the sign looming on the horizon. “Ten miles to Raccoon City,” she read. “You sure about this? It’s not too late to back out.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shooting her an incredulous look. “Where was that attitude before you decided to call me?”
Claire looked conflicted for a moment before she sighed. “You’re fucking with me.”
“If I didn’t want to be here, Claire, then I never would’ve left my place. I want to help you. And Chris,” you added. “Even if it means drudging up a lot of painful memories.”
It was your turn to try to lean forward to get a better look at something that was in the middle of the road.
“What the fuck,” you breathed.
“What is that?” Claire wondered, shooting you a worried look.
“It’s a blockade,” you answered. There were two cement barriers blocking the road, preventing you from continuing down the road. A sign on the blockade said: ‘No Entry Permitted By Order Of The Military.’
The apprehension you felt in the back of your mind since your nightmare went from an irritating buzz to a blaring siren of caution.
“Why the fuck would they block the road?”
“I don’t know,” you said, glancing into your rearview mirror before making a choice. “But I know a backroad,” you decided. “Maybe it’ll get us close enough to figure out what the hell is happening here.”
“I haven’t seen anything on the news about them blocking off the city,” Claire told you.
“It’s never a good sign,” you muttered as you backed your car up enough to turn it around. There was a gnawing certainty in the pit of your stomach, giving voice to all the worries crowding your mind.
You didn’t want to tell Claire what you were really thinking.
If it had been two months with no contact from Chris and the military was blocking access to the city, then was Chris even still alive?
You pressed your foot down on the accelerator, needing to know one way or the other whether Chris was okay. You felt a cautious sense of hope as you sped down the backroad. It was more of a dirt path that would eventually emerge from the woods to a road behind a row of houses. There weren’t any signs of another blockade, but you still tried to keep a careful watch on your surroundings.
“Watch out!” Claire warned just before your front tire hit a pothole.
You held on tight to the steering wheel as you tried to prevent the car from swerving. The impact was jarring enough you jerked forward in your seat, your breath leaving you in a rush as the seatbelt dug tight into your neck and chest.
“Fuck,” you hissed as you glanced over at Claire. “You okay?”
Claire nodded her head before letting out a deep breath. She brought a hand to her chest as she forced herself to take another deep breath.
“I think that took about five years off my life.”
You managed a laugh before your headlights flickered and the car started to slow to a crawl.
“Shit,” you grumbled as you hit the dashboard, as if that would manage to do anything.
The car lurched to a stop just as the headlights died, leaving you surrounded by darkness.
“Fuckin’ piece of shit can’t work with me for one fucking second,” you muttered to yourself as you tried to turn the key in the ignition with absolutely no luck.
“So,” Claire said, turning a worried look your way. “I guess we’re walking.”
“Guess so,” you agreed before reaching for the glove compartment. You popped it open before grabbing the gun you kept inside.
Claire huffed out a surprised laugh. “Chris give you that?”
“Taught me to use it too,” you told her.
“Wouldn’t happen to have another one of those in there for me, would you?”
“No,” you answered before handing it over to her. “But you can hold on to it if it’ll make you feel better.”
“You know just how to make a girl’s night,” she said before rifling through the glove compartment. She snagged the box of ammo you kept stashed inside before gifting you with a strained smile. “Ready to hit the road?”
“One more thing,” you said before you reached for the lever that would pop open the trunk of your car.
You got out of the car and walked to the trunk. There was a low sound just off to your right, prompting you to freeze in your tracks.
It sounded like a growl.
You could hardly see anything. There weren’t any streetlights out here and the trees were tall enough to block most of the light from the moon.
You hurried to the trunk of your car and opened it, hastily grabbing the flashlight you kept there for emergencies.
A beam of light swept over the surrounding trees, finding nothing to alert you to any danger that might be encroaching on you and Claire. You did another scan, catching something reflecting back at you. It was there and gone in a moment, but it was enough for you to decide that you needed to get the hell out of here.
It could have been a trick of the light. It could have been just your imagination. But for a moment you swore you saw a pair of eyes staring back at you from the darkness.
You were about to shut your trunk when something caught your eye.
You freed it from your trunk before walking towards Claire where she was waiting for you near the passenger side door.
“A crowbar?” She asked, glancing down at it gripped tight in your hand.
“Don’t ask,” you said. Your neighbor had loaned it to you when your window started sticking during the summer. He never asked for it back, so you never returned it.
“How far away are we?”
“Few miles,” you guessed. “Might even see some hint of civilization soon. If we’re lucky.”
“Let’s hope we’re lucky, then,” Claire said before launching into a story about one of her professors.
After half an hour of walking, you could see a light in the distance. You could also see someone hunched over in the middle of the road.
“Wait,” Claire cautioned, holding up her arm to stop you from walking. “You see that?”
You were standing far enough away that you couldn’t get a clear picture of the scene unfolding before you, but it was enough to tell you it wasn’t anything good.
The figure was bent over someone else. The stranger on the ground was still, but the other turned to look at you and Claire. There was blood smeared around their mouth and their skin had a sickly, grey pallor. Half their upper lip was missing and there were three long scratch marks marring the side of their face.
“Claire,” you said as the person got to their feet and started to stagger in your direction.
Claire raised the gun, leveling it at the other person.
“Don’t come any closer,” she ordered, keeping her grip on the gun tight enough to hold it steady.
You knew Chris had taught you and Claire how to defend yourselves. It was the only way he could stomach leaving the both of you behind. But now as you watched Claire shoot the stranger in the head, you only hoped whatever fate had befallen the stranger hadn’t also happened to Chris. It was a sick thought that you or Claire would have to use the defense lessons he gave you years ago on him.
The shot should have been enough to take care of the monster. But when you saw the stranger stir before attempting to get back up, you knew whatever was going on would require a lot more than just one bullet to the head.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” you told Claire before grabbing her arm.
You pushed yourself to run fast enough to get by the stranger before they could get back up.
As you passed the other stranger on the ground, you could see that half their torso had been torn out. Their eyes were staring sightlessly up at the night sky between the trees, but their limbs were beginning to twitch, signaling a return you didn’t want to be around to witness.
After what felt like hours, you broke through the trees, Claire right on your heels.
The road had let you out exactly where you remembered. There was a row of houses just in front of you, but they looked nothing like you remembered.
Broken windows and doors hanging off hinges were what you first noticed. Blood smeared on side paneling and movement between the houses was next. There was a low groan before a figure stepped out into the pool of light cast by the streetlights. It looked just like the other one in the woods.
Half-dead and bloodied, a snarl working its way free from its mouth.
“We can’t stay here,” you told Claire.
“Right behind you,” Claire promised.
You kept running in the hopes you would find a car to steal or a house with a living person inside. But everywhere you looked, there was death and destruction.
“Watch out!” Claire yelled just as one of the undead tried to latch onto the sleeve of your jacket.
You brought the crowbar up, shoving it into their mouth before it could close down on your shoulder. Claire kicked the back of their knee, sending them to the ground. She grasped the sleeve of your jacket before pulling, setting you off running again.
“I think there’s a gas station just up this road,” you recalled. “Maybe we’ll find a car there.”
“Got it,” Claire said, keeping the gun held in front of her.
You were grateful when you spotted the gas station in the distance. As you got closer, you noticed a jeep parked at the pumps and a cop cruiser with its doors open, but no one else in sight. There was a trail of blood leading towards the entrance of the station, quashing any hope you had that it might be a refuge.
“The cop car,” you pointed out to Claire. You glanced inside, spotting the keys in the ignition. “We should take this one.”
Claire opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off by the sound of a gunshot.
“That came from inside,” Claire said. “Maybe there’s someone in there who needs help.”
“Claire, wait,” you tried to stall her. You didn’t want to leave someone stranded, but you could also see the faint outline of more of the undead starting to approach the gas station. Your need to protect Claire and get her the hell out of here was quickly outweighing any instinct to help a stranger.
“It could be Chris in there,” Claire reasoned with you as she reached to open the door of the gas station.
It wasn’t Chris on the other side of the door. It was a stranger with his gun already aimed at Claire. You were standing at her side, so you automatically reached out to yank her out of the way just as the stranger yelled for her to get down.
He fired his gun once Claire was out of the way, taking down the bloodied walking corpse that nearly managed to grab her.
“Thanks,” Claire told the stranger.
“Don’t mention it,” he said as he stepped outside of the station. He kept his gun aimed at the rest of the monsters slowly converging on you. “Not that I’m not glad to find a friendly face or two, but I really think we should get the hell out of here.”
“Agreed,” Claire said before turning her gun on the closest threat. “Got any plans?”
“One,” the stranger said before nodding towards the cop car.
“Then let’s go,” you said before rushing towards the car.
You had to strike down one of the undead in a bid to get into the backseat of the cop car. You had ushered Claire towards the front passenger seat, since the door was already open. But when you tried to open the door to the backseat, one of the ravenous monsters tried to grab you.
The stranger from the gas station was quick to shove it away before towing you to the other side of the car. He brought his gun up and shot the closest creature, allowing you both enough time to get in the car.
“Fuck,” Claire breathed as the stranger pulled out of the parking lot. “That was close.”
The stranger huffed out a laugh. “You’re telling me.”
“Is this your car?” You wondered, meeting the stranger’s eyes in the rearview mirror. You didn’t like that you ended up in the seat behind him, but you couldn’t deny it would give you an advantage if you needed to get the jump on him in the event he turned out to be a psycho.
“Not mine,” he answered.
“You have any idea what’s going on here?” Claire followed up with, glancing curiously at the stranger.
“Just got into town,” he said. “I’m supposed to start at RPD, but I’ve got a feeling that’s not gonna happen.”
“Are you a cop?” Claire asked, a tiny bit of hope finding its way into her demeanor. “Because my brother is and he’s why I’m here. We were actually on our way to the police station. I’m Claire, by the way. Claire Redfield.”
“Leon Kennedy,” he introduced himself. He met your eyes in the rearview mirror again, seemingly unsurprised that you hadn’t taken your eyes off him. “And you are?”
“Y/N,” you answered.
“Nice to meet you,” Leon said before focusing back on the road. “You two picked a hell of a night to drop by for a visit.”
“I haven’t heard from Chris in months,” Claire explained. “But now I guess I know why.”
“Well, I hope we find your brother at the station.”
“Thanks,” Claire told him. She glanced over her shoulder at you. ‘Cut it out,’ she mouthed, cutting her eyes at Leon.
You shrugged your shoulders. You couldn’t help that you didn’t trust him. You didn’t know him and you certainly didn’t want to have to depend on him.
You only took your eyes off Leon once you noticed the sign on the side of the road.
‘Welcome to Raccoon City. Home of Umbrella.’
You rolled your eyes before glancing out the window, searching for a distraction.
“Got a history with this place?” Leon asked, drawing you out of your memories.
He was watching you in the mirror again and you wondered if it was because he also didn’t trust you or for an entirely different reason.
“Unfortunately,” you decided to say.
“Well,” Leon sighed as he turned on the street leading towards the police station. “I don’t think that’s about to change.”
As you grew closer to the station, you could hear a pre-recorded message projected from speakers urging citizens to head for the police station.
Rows of cars lined both sides of the street, leaving Leon only enough space to drive between them.
“I don’t like this,” you said, trying to get a better view out the window.
“What if it’s only us?” Claire wondered, glancing back at you. “What if there are no other survivors?”
Before you could try to put her at ease, Leon spoke first.
“It’s a big city,” he reminded her. “We just got here. I bet there are people at the police station. Including your brother.”
“God, I hope so,” Claire sighed, allowing her head to tip back against the headrest.
“Shit,” Leon said, drawing your attention to the blockade in the middle of the street.
“That’s not our only problem,” you told him.
The streets surrounding the station were swarming with the undead. One of them hit the driver’s side window, startling Leon. Another was clawing at the glass next to your face, trying to get to you. More and more were converging on the car, hoping to reach the fresh meals inside.
“Back up,” Claire ordered, turning to look at Leon. “Get us the fuck out of here.”
“Okay, okay,” Leon said, glancing over his shoulder to try to get a better view behind him.
You noticed his eyes go wide just before the world around you began to brighten from the set of headlights barreling towards the car. You managed to look out the rear window, catching sight of the huge truck heading right for you.
“Hold on!” Leon yelled just as the semi truck crashed into the row of cars before managing to hit the trunk of the cop car, sending it careening forward.
The car began to skid along the pavement before it hit another car, bringing it to a halt. The semi-truck wasn’t far behind, causing a pile-up of cars in the middle of the road.
The smell of smoke reached you before you saw the orange glow of flames erupt from the hood of the car.
“Get out!” Claire shouted as you saw her dive out of the passenger seat.
You tugged on the door handle but it wouldn’t budge.
“Fuck,” you cried as you hit the window with the palm of your hand. Before you could panic any further, Leon opened the door and hauled you out just as the car exploded. You hit the ground with Leon, scraping your hands on the asphalt beneath you.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Leon chanted before he was urging you to get up. “Run,” he said as you stumbled to your feet.
You barely managed to make it a few steps before the truck blew up, sending you back to the ground. Leon ended up thrown into the side of a car from the blast, a cry of pain leaving him.
You were quick to your feet, reaching out to help him up.
“Claire!” You called, turning to see a wall of fire separating you from her. At least, you hoped she she was on the other side. You didn’t want to consider the idea that she might not be alive anymore. “Claire! Answer me!”
“Claire!” Leon joined you. “Are you alright?”
One torturous second gave way to the next as you waited for any confirmation that Claire had survived.
“I’m okay!” She called across the flames. “I’m alive!”
“Thank fuck,” you said before you tried to rush forward. There had to be a gap in the flames where you could cross over to Claire.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Leon asked as he reached out to grab your arm, pulling you back. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“She’s my friend,” you told him, attempting to free yourself from his hold.
“And we’ve got some other friends headed our way,” he pointed out.
That was when you noticed the horde of undead braving the flames to make it to you.
“Just go!” Claire yelled. “We’ll meet at the station.”
You didn’t want to leave Claire behind. You wanted, more than anything, to find a way to get to her.
But as Leon tugged on your arm again, finally prompting you to turn and run with him, you realized that if you had any hope of reuniting with Claire or Chris, then you were going to have to survive.
May or may not have started planning a Leon Kennedy fic (Chris is her ex) with the possible intent on saving Ethan. (Although, I don't know if it's possible yet.) But we'll see. It's going to start reader at the beginning of RE2.
Also, I'm watching the School Spirits season finale and what the absolute fuck. I've got to start updating my fic. 👀
These Wolves Keep On Scratching At My Heart [Isaac Lahey/Reader] 6/?
Summary: Growing up as a human in the Hale pack wasn't easy, but you wouldn't have traded it for anything. When you're twelve, a fire takes away most of your family, except for your father and two of your cousins. You're adopted by a kind deputy and officially become a part of the Stilinski family since your father can't care for you and your cousins have fled town. You think life can't possibly get any more complicated until you're eighteen and your brother's best friend gets bitten by a rogue alpha out in the preserve.
Word Count: 6.2k
Author's Note: A lot of really terrible stuff has happened in my life since I last updated this fic, but this is honestly a comfort fic for me to write. So, thank you to everyone who gives this the time of day and encourages me to keep going. Y'all are amazing and I couldn't do this without y'all.
Fic Masterlist // Read On AO3
Chris studied you for a moment before he took a step outside, closing the front door behind him.
“You have thirty seconds to get off my property before I shoot you,” he warned. “You really don’t want to mess with me. Especially not tonight.”
“I’m human,” you snapped, not wanting to give him time to lay out any more threats. You weren’t scared of Chris Argent. But if he shot you here and now, then it would leave Derek and your dad without anyone to care for them. It would leave Stiles without a sister and the sheriff without a daughter. It would leave Jackson without a best friend and confidant. You had so much to lose, but you knew you couldn’t let anyone lose you as well.
Chris froze before looking you up and down as if trying to figure out if you were telling the truth or not.
“I thought you were a Hale,” he remarked, disbelief in his tone.
“I am a Hale,” you clarified for him. “But I’m human. So, go ahead and shoot me if you want. But I’ll die. I won’t heal.”
You let Chris process the information for a moment longer before you spoke again.
“So, we need to talk,” you resolved for him.
Chris glanced back at his house before he shook his head.
“Not here,” he decided. “Let me grab my keys. Go wait in your car and then follow me.”
You nodded your head, starting to feel trepidation leak through your confidence. Confronting Chris had felt like a great plan just moments before, but now you were about to follow him somewhere where the two of you would be alone. Deaton had trained you in defense and offense and everything in between, but you still didn’t know everything. If Chris decided you weren’t worth the trouble, what was to stop him from killing you and dumping your body out in the preserve for Derek or your dad to find?
You climbed behind the wheel of your jeep and waited for Chris to reappear.
You considered for a moment that he was going inside just to grab a weapon. But when he stepped back outside, wearing a coat and pocketing his cell phone. He waved to you as he approached his car. You watched him get into the driver’s seat and start up the engine.
You didn’t have to wait long before Chris was pulling out of the driveway.
You let your jeep roll forward as you followed him, keeping enough distance between your car and Chris’ that you could still get away if you felt like you were in danger.
Half an hour later, you were starting to regret your plan. Chris had taken you down one back road and then another before getting onto the highway leading away from Beacon Hills.
“Where the hell are we going,” you muttered to yourself. You briefly thought about texting Stiles or maybe even Derek that you were following Chris Argent out of town and if you didn’t come back by morning, to send the sheriff to collect your body. But you kept your phone in your pocket, instead focusing on the signs you passed as you followed Chris.
Chris took an exit that promised three gas stations, two fast food restaurants, and a diner.
Chris pulled into the parking lot for the diner and took a spot near the back where the glow from the streetlights didn’t quite reach.
It wasn’t bad enough you were one town over from Beacon Hills, but now Chris was getting out of his car in the darkest corner of the parking lot and obviously expected for you to follow.
You decided to park three spots over from Chris. You didn’t want him to think you were scared of him, but you also didn’t want to be a complete and total idiot either.
If only your dad could see you now.
Chris was already waiting for you at the door by the time you were parked and halfway across the parking lot.
Chris held the door open for you and let you walk inside first.
There was a waitress leaning against a table by the door. She had her phone in hand, typing out a text to someone, as she spared you a quick glance.
“Sit wherever you want,” the waitress offered before laughing at whatever was on her phone.
“Come on,” Chris urged, brushing past you and approaching the booth in the corner farthest from the door.
You got a moment to glance around the diner, spotting one older gentleman at the counter and no other customers. You wondered for a moment if Chris knew this place would practically be deserted at this time of night. Maybe he had scoped out places to hold clandestine meetings in the middle of the night and this establishment won top spot.
You had to fight down the urge to grin at the thought of Chris testing each booth for comfiness or parking lots for mysterious vibes.
Chris slid into the side of the booth facing the door, with his back to the wall. You joined him at the table, sitting across from him.
“So, you’re human,” Chris prompted when you didn’t say anything. “Why get me out of the bed in the middle of the night for that? I would have figured it out sooner or later.”
“It’s–,”
“What can I get for you two?”
You glanced up at the waitress standing beside the table. She had an order pad in one hand and pencil in the other, ready to take your order.
“Get whatever you want,” Chris offered, gesturing for you to pick up the menu in front of you.
The waitress chuckled, gifting Chris with an appreciative look. “Nice dad you got there,” she commented.
It took you a beat too long to realize she was talking to you.
“Oh, yeah,” you agreed with a laugh you hoped didn’t sound too uncomfortable. “He’s the best.”
“I’ll take coffee,” Chris said, shooting you a begrudgingly amused look. “And eggs with a side of bacon.”
“And you?”
“Pancakes,” you decided, barely taking a moment to look at the menu. “And coffee too. Please,” you added at her skeptical look.
“Sure, kid,” she agreed before turning and approaching the kitchen.
You waited until you were sure she was out of earshot before talking.
“I couldn’t wait for an answer,” you told him. “I needed to know if your family had anything to do with what happened to my family.”
Chris stared at you, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“My family?” Chris checked, as if he thought he must not have heard you right.
You reached into your pocket and pulled out the small bag of mountain ash you kept on you now. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough to get your point across or maybe save your life if you ran into the alpha terrorizing Beacon Hills.
“You know what this is?”
Chris studied the bag in your hand before his eyes narrowed in thought.
“Mountain ash,” he answered, sounding wary.
“And you know what it does,” you said, figuring it was a safe bet if he recognized it.
“It protects from the supernatural,” Chris confirmed, finally meeting your eyes. “How the hell did you get your hands on it?”
“I know a guy,” you told him, fighting the urge to smirk.
You poured the mountain ash on the table, watching Chris’ expression.
“If I weren’t human, then I wouldn’t be able to do this, right?” You drew your finger through the mountain ash before moving it in a circle in the air above it. You let your hand hover over it for a moment, visualizing where you wanted it to go. The ash disappeared, appearing in a ring around the syrup caddy.
“Okay,” Chris conceded, keeping his focus on the mountain ash. “So, you’re human. I’m still not clear on why you had to come to my house in the middle of the night just to tell me that.”
“Here you go, sweetie,” the waitress interrupted, placing a plate of pancakes in front of you. There was a whipped cream smiley face drawn on the top one with a cherry where the nose would be. “And for your dad,” she said, setting Chris’ food down in front of him. She turned and grabbed two cups of coffee from where she had set them on the table behind her. “Here you go. Just get my attention if you need anything else.”
“Will do,” Chris promised with a charming smile.
The waitress snorted, seemingly not impressed with Chris, before she walked away, humming a tune you swore you recognized.
“I had to tell you that, because I want you to know that the night of the fire, I wasn’t the only human in that house.”
Chris had been in the middle of stirring a pack of sweetener into his coffee. He carefully set it down before leaning forward. When he spoke again, his voice was lowered, as if he wanted to make sure no one else overheard.
“What does any of that have to do with my family?”
“Do you know the only reason I escaped the fire? The only reason I’m alive right now?”
Chris shook his head before reaching for his coffee and taking a sip. “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”
“My dad,” you informed him. “My dad threw me out of a second story window because our house was on fire. And I’ve wondered for years why he never followed me. Why did I survive when everyone else died? Why would my father choose to drop me and leave me all alone in the dirt with a broken arm? Why didn’t he save himself?”
You didn’t want to mention that your dad was the only other survivor of the fire. Your trust in Chris was low enough that you couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t try to visit the care home and make an easy kill of your father.
You let your finger run through the mountain ash barrier before looking up at Chris.
“Because he couldn’t,” Chris realized with a grim expression. “Because someone trapped him inside.”
“Hunters trapped him inside,” you corrected him. “And who are the only hunters who know about the Hales? The only hunters who have taken up residence in this town? The same hunters who shot and nearly killed my cousin last night?”
Chris shook his head, pushing his plate away from himself. “I had nothing to do with that.”
“There were kids in the house when it went up in flames,” you reminded Chris. “It wasn’t just wolves. There were children. Humans and wolves. My family,” you stressed. “Kids who were younger than me burned to death because of people like you.” You couldn’t help but think of Cora. Fierce and mischievous and a total pain in the ass, but wholly innocent. And now she was gone because people like Chris decided she had to die. “My family never hurt anyone. And maybe you had nothing to do with it, because you like to think you’re a true follower of your precious code, but I’m willing to bet you know someone who thinks the code is a joke. Someone who wouldn’t think twice before setting fire to a house and trapping everyone inside as long as they got to kill a house full of wolves.”
You brought your fork up and scooped up some of the whipped cream.
“Tell me, Chris,” you started before taking a bite. “How well do you know your family?”
Chris studied you across the table for a moment before glancing away. You knew he had been caught off-guard by the change of topic. Whatever he was thinking of, whoever it happened to relate to, could bring you one step closer to figuring out what the hell happened to your family that night.
You were halfway through your pancakes before Chris finally responded.
“My family had nothing to do with that fire,” he swore. “I would know.”
You snorted, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. You really fucking hated hunters, but you especially hated the ones who had their heads stuck in the sand, refusing to look around and see the corruption around them.
“Would you?”
Chris didn’t seem to have an answer to that.
“It’s getting late and it’s a school night,” he redirected, looking at his watch. “You should get home.”
You didn’t want to let Chris get away without admitting to something, but you hoped he would at least think about what you had to say. Maybe, if you were lucky, he would even think twice before trying to shoot someone you cared about.
“One more thing,” you said before taking one last sip of your coffee. “If Derek dies because of you or any other Argent in this town, then I’ll do whatever I can to kill you.”
Chris arched a brow, gifting you with a skeptical look. “Look, kid,” he started to say before you cut him off.
“I don’t have much family left because of people like you. Maybe it wasn’t an Argent who killed my family, but I have no doubt now that hunters targeted them. I’m not going to lose anyone else,” you insisted. “I can’t.”
Chris sighed, watching you for a beat too long. He looked conflicted and oddly upset. “I’m only here to hunt the alpha. As long as Derek stays out of my way, I won’t have any reason to go after him.”
“Derek is off-limits,” you demanded, unwilling to back down. Derek was also after the alpha and you had no doubt he would end up crossing paths with Chris again. “I’m not losing anyone else.”
Chris shook his head before he moved to stand. He stared down at you, something sad and nearly wistful entering his expression. “Get home safe, kid,” he told you before dropping a twenty on the table.
You rolled your eyes, helpless against the urge to piss him off. You got the feeling Chris only saw you as a kid who was way out of her league. But you had been forced to grow up after losing nearly everything in just one night.
“What? No tip?” You pushed your luck as you used your left pointer finger to draw a line through the mountain ash still encircling the syrup caddy. You willed it back into its container, satisfied when it disappeared from the table.
Chris muttered something under his breath before opening his wallet again. He grabbed a five dollar bill and placed it beside the twenty.
“Smartass,” Chris muttered before walking away, leaving you alone at the table.
You opted to finish your coffee, watching Chris through the wall of windows that made up the front of the diner. His steps were slow, cautious, before he turned towards your jeep. You felt a spike of panic shoot through you when he stopped by your car. You thought for a moment that he would slash your tires so you were stranded at the diner. Maybe he would race back to Beacon Hills and kill Derek before you could get back to warn him.
You watched as Chris stood by your car, his back to the diner so you couldn’t see what he was doing. After what felt like forever, he walked to his car and then hesitated by the driver’s side door. You noticed him glance back at the diner, as if he was unsure if he should leave or not.
Finally, after what seemed like quite the deliberation, Chris got into his car and left.
“You alright? Pretty crummy of your dad to just up and leave you here at this time of night.”
You startled, forgetting for a moment you weren’t really alone.
You glanced up at the waitress, finally reading her nametag.
“I’m fine. We drove separate cars. But thanks, Jay.”
Jay watched you for a moment before she sighed. “I’ll be back with your receipt,” she promised before she grabbed the cash off the table and walked away.
You didn’t have to wait long before she was back. She was carrying a to-go box and drink in her hand.
“Here,” she said as she set them down in front of you. “Something for the road.”
“Thanks,” you told her as you started to slide out of the booth. “And the receipt?”
Jay winked at you before she walked back towards the front, not bothering to answer your question.
You were relieved to get back to your car and see all four of your tires unharmed. There was a slip of paper tucked into the passenger side door handle.
You opened the door so you could set the to-go box and drink inside your car. You turned and grabbed the piece of paper.
It was the receipt from the diner. Chris must have grabbed it on his way out the door.
You flipped it over to see there was a note on the back.
‘for the next time you’re in trouble’ was written above a phone number.
You tried not to laugh at the idea that Chris Argent would be on the list of people you would call if you were ever in trouble. Maybe if you truly had no one else to call, but you hoped it would never come to that.
You rounded the front of your car and climbed into the driver’s seat. You stared down at the receipt for a few moments before you caved and programmed the number into your phone. You put him under ‘Chief Asshole,’ in case the sheriff ever got hold of your phone and wondered why you had Chris Argent’s phone number.
Although, you couldn’t deny that the idea of your dad arresting Chris was pretty funny.
You stashed your phone in the center console before taking a peek at what Jay had given you.
There were four slices of pie inside. It looked like Jay had given you a slice from each of the pies that had been displayed on the counter. One apple, one cherry, one lemon, and one chocolate.
Written on the inside top of the container was a phone number with a note scrawled beneath it.
‘In case you ever need some help.’
You glanced back at the diner through your windshield, catching sight of Jay watching your car idle in the parking lot from the front window.
You raised your hand in a wave, unsure if she could even see you, before pulling out of the lot.
You didn’t know why all the adults in your life suddenly decided you needed help or saving. But there was a small part of you that couldn’t deny after being on your own for so long, it was nice to get a little assistance.
Even if it was assistance you never planned on taking.
You thought for a moment about visiting Derek and splitting the pie with him, but exhaustion was slowly creeping up on you. If you went by the house tonight, there was every chance you might fall asleep there.
You would be lucky if the sheriff didn’t notice your absence, but falling asleep at the old house was just asking for trouble.
By the time you got home, your dad was half-asleep on the living room couch and Stiles was in his room with the door closed.
You moved the pie from the container to a plate before taking a picture of Jay’s note and number on your phone. You buried the container beneath a pasta box and emptied salad bag, hoping your dad didn’t suddenly get the urge to dig through the trash.
If he asked about the pie, then you would just have to lie and say it came from somewhere else.
You trudged up the stairs, your eyes feeling heavy and thoughts heavier.
You couldn’t prove that hunters, much less the Argents, had anything to do with the fire. It wasn’t so much intuition as the look on Derek’s face when he spoke to Scott. Derek knew more about the fire than he let on, but you didn’t want to push him.
Derek had already run from Beacon Hills once. What was going to stop him from doing it again?
Once you made it to your room, sleep was clawing at you, begging for your defeat. But you couldn’t let it win just yet.
You walked over to your window, thinking of the mountain ash ring you had protecting the house. Derek had probably come by thinking he could find refuge in your room until you got home from school. He wouldn’t have been able to get into the house, much less your room, though.
If it came down to it, you would much rather Derek know he had a safe place to hide if shit hit the fan. With Argents and a rogue alpha in town, you figured it was only a matter of time before Derek would need somewhere to lay low.
Mind made up, you held your hand out, palm towards the ceiling. You closed your eyes, seeing the mountain ash protecting your house. It lit up gold in your mind, shining so bright that it nearly hurt your eyes.
You envisioned part of the ring breaking away before reforming, leaving only your bedroom unprotected. Derek wouldn’t be able to get into the rest of the house, but he would at least have somewhere to spend his time besides the ruins of your childhood home.
When you opened your eyes, there were a few grains of mountain ash in the palm of your hand. You curled your fingers in towards your palm so you were making a fist and thought about the container in your pocket. You opened your hand to see the mountain ash gone, returned to the small bag.
You did your best to keep acting like everything was fine and normal over the next few days. You antagonized Stiles and visited Derek and had lunch two more times with Boyd. You kept an eye on Scott and didn’t get too close to Allison, because you didn’t really trust her. You made plans to hang out with Jackson and did your best not to fail your classes.
But the highlight of your week, to your surprise, was when you got to go to health class.
It wasn’t because of Coach Finstock’s brilliant teaching methods, but because of Isaac Lahey.
Isaac had always been a little quiet, but you realized it was because he kept his walls up. There was a look in his eye when he watched others. It was like he was waiting for them to hurt him.
You didn’t understand why he was so distrustful of others.
But you were lucky.
Some time between your second and third classes as a married couple, Isaac had decided to let a little bit more of his personality shine through around you.
You grew to love the way the left corner of his lips ticked up when he was smirking. You loved his witty commentary about the class and your classmates. His favorite target was usually Finstock and every time you laughed, you could have sworn his eyes brightened just a bit. Whenever he remarked about Finstock’s latest insult concerning Greenburg, who wasn’t even in the class, or your other classmates, he always looked at you for your reaction.
You didn’t know why it gave you such a thrill that he was so invested in you. It made something in your gut flipflop, a mix of nerves and anticipation.
It took you just four classes with Isaac to realize you were crushing on him. Hard.
It wasn’t even really because he was attractive. There was no doubt that he was hot. Beautiful, you thought, in a way you could almost think of as angelic. But there were secrets lingering just behind his every expression and you wanted to know more.
You found yourself trying to spot him in the hallway between classes or during lunch. You wondered what he did after school and if he had any friends.
When you weren’t obsessing over your current crisis, your thoughts tended to turn towards Isaac. It was new and exciting, but terrifying at the same time. You didn’t know what to do with any of it and you feared you would fuck something up between the two of you.
You weren’t looking forward to the end of the project, because you were worried Isaac wouldn’t want to talk to you anymore.
That dread was why you worked up the courage to turn in your seat so you were facing Isaac halfway through making a poster advertising your pet psychology practice you decided to name ‘Pavlove.’
“So, I was thinking,” you started, tapping the end of your marker against the desk. It was a nervous habit, but you couldn’t deny that you were really worried. Losing your family and stressing over your dad and training to be an emissary had done nothing to prepare you for the first time you really started to fall for someone.
You had crushes before. Innocent, stupid crushes that went away after a few weeks.
But this was the first time you wanted to make something actually happen.
“That dangerous, huh?” Isaac asked, glancing to where you were still tapping the marker.
“Sorry,” you said, sheepishly stilling the marker. “I was just thinking that if you’re up for it, we should exchange numbers.”
You waited for a moment, trying to gauge his reaction.
If only Jackson could see you now. He would have the time of his life making fun of you as payback for all the times you teased him for caving to Lydia’s demands.
“You know…for the project?” You tried, hoping you didn’t sound too idiotic. You were in completely new territory and a little terrified you would push him away.
“Okay,” Isaac conceded with a shrug of his shoulders. You noticed him wince, but he played it off as if he were trying to stretch, before he grabbed your notebook.
He uncapped his pen and then wrote a number down on the inside cover of your notebook.
“Here,” he said, gifting you with a tiny, sincere smile. “Text me anytime. For the project,” he added.
“Stilinski!” Coach Finstock called, making you startle hard enough you nearly dropped the marker still in your hand.
“Yes, Coach?” You looked up to see he was standing right by your desk, studying the poster you were only half-finished decorating.
“It needs more glitter,” he observed before walking away, leaving you to stare at his back as he retreated.
“He just doesn’t see your vision,” Isaac assured you. “I think it looks perfect so far.”
“Thanks,” you said, carefully not looking at Isaac. Your cheeks felt flushed and you were mortified at the thought that he might be able to tell.
Or worse, he might know he was the reason you were feeling so flustered.
The next night, you were still trying to figure out what to text Isaac. You were in the back of the sheriff’s cruiser, since you lost rock, paper, scissors to Stiles. The winner got to choose dinner and sit in the front passenger seat, leaving you to stare down at your phone while you absentmindedly ate curly fries.
You weren’t really paying attention to what your dad and Stiles were talking about. You were still trying to figure out if it was pathetic to text Isaac so soon or rude that you hadn’t made good use of his number yet.
“A murder?!” Stiles exclaimed, flailing so hard in his seat that you looked up just in time to see a few fries hit the windshield.
“Son,” the sheriff sighed as he started up the cruiser. “Maybe I should drop you two off at home.”
“No way,” Stiles argued, leaning forward in his seat. “You’ve got to get over there right away.”
You rolled your eyes. Stiles was forever curious about the sheriff’s job, but you weren’t eager to see a dead body.
Your dad looked up at the rearview mirror, meeting your eyes. He arched a brow in question, waiting for your answer. You reluctantly nodded your head, letting him know it was okay.
Stiles let out a whoop of excitement when the sheriff turned on the siren and lights, speeding towards the scene of the latest crime in Beacon Hills.
There was already an ambulance and another police cruiser waiting in the parking lot of Video 2C by the time you got there.
You were intent on staring at your phone some more in the hopes that you would think up a good enough opening text to Isaac so you wouldn’t have to get a glimpse of the crime scene. But when the sheriff stopped the car right by the ambulance, you managed to catch sight of who was sitting in the back of it before you could look away.
“Oh my God,” you breathed.
Jackson and Lydia were both sitting in the back of the ambulance.
Your dad was already out of the car after giving you and Stiles a stern warning to stay put. But there was no way you were going to sit and wait when your best friend was hurt.
“Stiles,” you said as you tried to open the back door even though you knew it was useless. The back doors of the cruiser only opened from the outside. “You’ve got to let me out.”
“You heard Dad,” Stiles responded, turning in his seat to look at you. “I’m already on thin ice after getting Derek arrested.”
“Like you’re not dying to get out there and find out what’s going on,” you shot back.
Stiles bit his lip, sending a wary look at your dad.
“”I’ll give you the rest of my fries,” you promised him. “I’ve barely had any. That’s practically a full order,” you tried to entice him.
Stiles groaned before reaching for the door handle. “Damn it,” he muttered before he got out of the car and let you out.
“Thanks,” you made sure to tell him before you were rushing towards Jackson.
He was glaring at the paramedic standing in front of the couple, his jaw clenched so hard you were surprised his teeth hadn’t cracked yet. Lydia was staring at the ground, making no effort to answer any of the paramedic’s questions.
“Jackson,” you called, ignoring the way your dad’s shoulders slumped at the sound of your voice.
Jackson’s head shot up, seeking you out. His eyes finally landed on you as you approached, relief softening the fury he was wearing to mask his terror.
“What the hell happened?” You asked once you were at his side. You had to resist the urge to reach out and pull him into a hug. You knew when Jackson got like this, he didn’t want anyone around him to see the fallout. He definitely didn’t want anyone fussing over him.
“It was some kind of animal,” Jackson explained before shooting another glare at the paramedic who was trying to get a shock blanket around his shoulders. “Something big,” Jackson described, moving to put his arm around Lydia’s shoulders when she shivered.
There was no doubt in your mind that Jackson had a run-in with the alpha. The alpha must have murdered someone, but let Jackson walk away. You were grateful the alpha spared your best friend, but why target the video rental store? What was so special about it?
“They said there was a murder. But you’re okay? You’re not hurt?”
Jackson looked whole and mostly unscathed.
“The guy who works here,” Jackson confirmed, shaking his head. “I’m fine,” he insisted when he noticed you trying to search for any hint of an injury. “I’m fine,” he yelled, setting his focus on the police officers investigating the scene. “I’m fine and I want to go home and this is fucking bullshit,” he snapped, continuously raising his voice until most of the people in the parking lot had turned to look at him.
“Jackson,” your dad greeted as he drew closer. “I know you want to go home, son, but–”
“But nothing,” Jackson refuted, throwing the blanket off his shoulders and standing. “There’s no reason you can keep me here. So, I’m going the fuck home and you and your rent-a-cop buddies can try and do your jobs.”
“Hey!” Stiles blurted, shooting you an incredulous look.
You knew what he was thinking. Once again, he was questioning why Jackson was your best friend.
You caught the startled look on the sheriff’s face and reached out to brush your hand against Jackson’s arm.
“Jax,” you whispered softly enough that the only people who would hear you were you, Jackson, and the sheriff.
Jackson’s shoulders tensed for a moment before he let them drop.
“Let me get one more statement and then you can go home,” your dad promised. “I’m not trying to keep you here. But someone was killed here tonight and you might be the only person who can help us catch whoever murdered him.”
Jackson muttered something under his breath but let your dad get his statement.
“Hey, Lydia?” Stiles called, trying to get a response out of her.
Lydia didn’t even look at Stiles. She kept staring at a point on the ground, absorbed in whatever had captured her thoughts.
“What’s going on with her?” Stiles asked one of the paramedics.
“She’s in shock,” the paramedic responded. “She probably got a look at the crime scene. Pretty gnarly stuff in there,” he said, nodding towards the video place.
“Alright, kids,” the sheriff addressed you and Stiles. “Time for you two to go home.”
“I’m not going anywhere until Jackson gets to leave,” you protested.
“I’m leaving,” Jackson assured you, but he kept his gaze on the sheriff, as if daring him to argue. “I should get Lydia home.”
Your dad nodded his head, but he didn’t look too pleased.
“Go straight home after dropping her off,” the sheriff told Jackson before nodding towards his car. “And you two, let’s get going.”
On the way home, your thoughts were occupied with Jackson. You had been so wrapped up in your crush on Isaac and trying to threaten Chris Argent and making sure Derek survived that you had yet again let your friendship fall by the wayside. If you had been with Jackson, maybe you could have protected him. Maybe you could have done something.
Or maybe, if you were on the alpha’s hit list as one of the last surviving Hales, he would have had to watch you die too.
You didn’t know, but the distance between you and Jackson felt like it was being carved out a bit at a time. Lies and omissions and avoidances were mounting up and overshadowing your friendship.
You didn’t want to lose Jackson, which meant you had to be a better friend. It was a promise you had made just days ago, but one you had been really shitty at keeping.
Once the sheriff left and Stiles went to bed, you snuck out of the house. You had your backpack slung over one shoulder and a small duffel bag in your hand. If you were lucky, Stiles was already passed out and the sheriff wouldn’t be home for the rest of the night.
You parked down the street from Jackson’s house and grabbed your stuff out of the passenger seat. The sensation of being watched washed over you, prompting you to stop on the sidewalk outside Jackson’s neighbor’s house and take note of your surroundings.
You couldn’t hear or see anything, but you still felt like there was something heavy pressing down between your shoulder blades.
You hurried towards Jackson’s house and started scaling the trellis his parents had put up beneath his window when you were in middle school. It had been a while since you made good use of it, but you were glad when it held steady.
You attempted to keep your balance as you let go of the trellis to knock lightly on Jackson’s window. You waited for one moment into the next before trying again, adding a little more weight to your knock.
Before you could try to knock a third time, Jackson hastily drew back the curtains. He gifted you with an irritated look and pointedly didn’t open his window.
“C’mon, Jax,” you pleaded, knowing that even if he couldn’t hear you, he would understand you.
You put your hand back on the wood of the trellis when you felt yourself begin to tip back. Your hand caught on a thorn from one of the roses twined around the trellis, tearing into your finger deep enough to make it bleed.
You jerked your hand away, unthinking about the precarious situation you were putting yourself in as you rocked back on your heels. Before you could worry you were about to plummet to your death, or at least another broken arm, Jackson grabbed the collar of your shirt and reeled you closer to him.
“Thanks,” you told him, glancing briefly at the ground. You had managed to keep hold of your duffel bag, but your dignity had definitely suffered.
“You’re a moron,” Jackson accused, but there was a hint of fondness in his tone when he said it. “Get in here,” he sighed as he reached out to help tug you forward into his bedroom.
If I Open the Door to Heaven or Hell 10/? [Wally Clark/Reader]
Summary: You try to get answers from Janet.
Word Count: 2.5k
Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day, y'all!! 💖 Only one more chapter to wrap up season two events and then we'll be moving on to season three events!
Fic Masterlist // Read On AO3
Before leaving the teacher’s lounge, you let go of Wally’s hand long enough to put his jacket on before reaching for him again.
“Fuck,” Wally breathed when he realized what you were doing. He looked you up and down, taking a moment to really take you in. Wally’s eyes grew dark with want, leaving you to wish Rhonda had never interrupted you. “You look good,” he praised, reeling you close enough to kiss you. “Too good,” he murmured against your lips.
“Wally,” you whispered, knowing he would understand what you were trying to say.
As much as you wanted Wally, you couldn’t ignore that something was wrong enough for Rhonda to seek you out. You would have your time with Wally. The current crisis, whatever it was, evidently couldn’t wait. And once it was over and you were with Wally again, you would show him just how happy he made you.
Wally groaned, but dutifully broke the kiss.
“Later,” he promised, still considering you with a look that shot heat right through you. It was filled with need and anticipation and desperation.
“Later,” you confirmed with a strained voice, rolling your eyes at Wally’s pleased smirk. “Oh, shut up,” you muttered. “You know what you do to me.”
“I know what I want to do to you,” Wally mused, taking a moment to let his hand brush against your side.
“Hey, lovebirds,” Rhonda called from farther on down the hallway. “You think you can stop being horny for five seconds?”
Wally pretended to think it over for a moment. “It’s worth a try,” he conceded with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Ugh,” Rhonda groaned before turning her back on the pair of you and leading you down the hallway towards the library.
When you walked into the library, still holding Wally’s hand, it was to see everyone else waiting on you. Yuri and Charley were sitting next to each other at one of the tables and Rhonda and Quinn were leaning against the table opposite them. Maddie was pacing the floor, visibly nervous about what was going on.
“About time you two showed up,” Charley greeted. He zeroed in on Wally’s hand in yours and his lips ticked up in a smirk. “Now I know why it took Rhonda so long to find you.”
“What? What does that mean?” Quinn wondered, studying you and Wally. “Oh,” she breathed, noticing the jacket you were wearing. “That’s kind of sweet, actually.”
“Gross,” Rhonda muttered, shaking her head. “Look, we’re all thrilled for the happy couple, I’m sure. But we’ve got some serious shit going on right now.”
“What’s going on?” You asked as Wally led you towards one of the tables.
You sat down, finally letting go of Wally’s hand, as you leaned your elbows on the table. Wally took the chair next to yours, his arm brushing against yours.
“That missing page we’ve been looking for? The one from Janet’s notes? Quinn found it in her scar,” Rhonda informed you.
“And it involved some pretty twisted stuff,” Charley added.
“Janet was experimenting on us,” Rhonda continued, straightening up out of her lean to approach the table where Charley and Yuri were sitting. She grabbed a piece of paper you didn’t notice before and brought it to you. “Her and Mr. Martin were using us this whole time.”
You felt Wally’s hand grip your thigh beneath the table, as if he was looking for reassurance you were there.
“What were they using us for?” He looked from Charley to Rhonda to Maddie, waiting on an answer.
“We–,” Maddie started before the sound of the intercom cut her off.
“Maddie,” Simon’s voice projected into the room. “I’ve got someone here I think you’d like to talk to. Meet me in the cafeteria. Now,” he added.
“Shit,” Maddie breathed before making for the door.
“Janet?” Wally wondered, sharing a look with Rhonda. “You think he’s got Janet?”
“Only one way we find out,” Yuri prompted, nodding towards the door.
No one said a word on the way to the cafeteria, but no one had to. The tension in the air felt so thick you were surprised you couldn’t see it. From the way Maddie was rushing ahead of the group to find her friend to the way Wally kept close to your side to the way Rhonda and Charley shared a concerned look. All of you were worried and all of you wanted answers.
The question was: Were you going to get them?
When you got to the cafeteria, it was to see two Maddies. The Maddie you were familiar with stood just a few feet away from you, staring at the imposter sitting alone at one of the tables. The other Maddie had a shy, downcast demeanor you had grown accustomed to seeing from Janet.
“Janet,” Charley greeted.
“About time you showed up,” Rhonda chastised. “Got tired of running?”
Janet barely raised her head enough to look at either of them. “I’m ready to talk,” she offered. “Isn’t that why I’m here?”
“Why don’t you start with this?” Maddie asked, handing the page from Janet’s notes to her so she could see it.
Janet skimmed over the words on the piece of paper. Her mouth twisted to the side, guilt flashing across her face, before she placed the page on the table.
“I can explain,” Janet claimed, finally raising her head enough to meet Maddie’s eyes.
“Yeah,” Wally scoffed, moving to sit down at a table, facing Janet. He reached out to grab your hand and pull you into the seat next to him. “You better.”
Janet let her gaze linger on Wally for a moment before she glanced away.
“You have to understand,” she started, letting her fingers brush over the ripped out page from her journal. “When this all started, I had no idea how far it would go.”
You watched Janet as she recounted meeting Rhonda for the first time. You hated that your friend went through something so traumatic. You wished more than anything that Rhonda got to live out her life and fulfill all her dreams. Knowing now that even her afterlife was plagued by a teacher who would rather use her for his own gains left a bitter taste in your mouth.
“For years, it was just me and Mr. Martin,” Janet explained. “And suddenly, there was someone else. And it wasn’t just Rhonda. It was Dawn and Yuri and then so many others. We discovered that every person who died here had some kind of…,” she paused, trying to think of the right word, “key,” she finally settled on. “A key leading to their worst nightmare. And it wasn’t just their death. It was everything that plagued them. An exaggeration. Because of course everyone died in horrific ways, but it was so much worse.”
“If you knew that, then why carry on with the charade?” You couldn’t help but wonder, speaking for the first time since getting to the cafeteria. “Was it all a game to the two of you? Make us trust you and tell Mr. Martin all our worst fears and then take your little notes?”
Janet met your gaze, regret clear in her expression. “The support group was never really meant to be a support group,” she confessed. “It was so we could observe everyone.”
“We never signed on to be your test subjects,” Wally reminded her.
You grabbed his hand, letting him know you were there for him. Wally’s shoulders had drawn tight with the rage he was barely concealing.
“We needed you,” Janet said. “All of you. The scars are fueled by trauma,” she remarked. “We realized that every time someone goes into one, they release energy. Dawn was the one who helped me figure that out.”
Janet recounted her conversation with Dawn when she mentioned the electricity in the school going wild any time entered their scar.
“I didn’t think about any of the ramifications that might come from simply theorizing that with enough energy, we could change the limits of this place. I was just so excited. It was knowledge. Something new when everything had felt so static for years. I couldn’t help but tell him all about it.”
Janet stopped speaking, taking a moment to stare down at her laced fingers where they were resting on the tabletop.
“I always wanted to impress him. For the longest time, he was my true confidant. And I was stupid enough to trust him,” she whispered, her fingers gripping each other so tightly you could see they were trembling. “He took my ideas and turned them into a test. An experiment.”
“An experiment,” Maddie repeated, leaning forward in her seat. “What was it?”
“He thought we could break the barrier,” Janet explained. “But the only way to try to achieve that would be to lock everyone inside their scars.”
“Quinn,” you heard Rhonda call and turned just in time to see Quinn leaving the cafeteria. Rhonda followed after her, trying to get her to come back.
You knew that Quinn wanted nothing to do with her scar. You couldn’t really blame her. You had only visited yours out of heartbreak and a tiny bit of spite. Quinn might want to get out of Split River as much as any of you did, but having to be locked inside the crash that took her life, surrounded by the dead bodies of her friends, was too much to ask.
Maddie got up from her seat and approached Simon where he was waiting near the door.
“So, did you really think it would work?” Charley asked, addressing Janet. “Torturing us and making us relive our worst nightmares?”
“Hey,” you whispered to Wally, letting your thumb brush over the back of his hand. His grip on your hand was still tight. “You okay?”
Wally didn’t answer for a moment, his focus on Janet. “I don’t know,” he answered, finally looking at you. “I want to get Maddie out of here. She shouldn’t have to be stuck here anymore. But I don’t want everyone to have to torture themselves with their scars. And what happens if she can’t see us once she’s back in her body? What happens if we lose her too?”
“It’ll be okay, Wally,” you assured him. “You’re right, you know? She shouldn’t have to be stuck here anymore. And if the worst thing that happens from getting her back in her body is she can’t see us anymore, then that will just have to be okay too. She’s got a life to get back to, Wally. She’s not like us. She’s still alive.”
“Yeah,” Wally sighed, glancing back at where Maddie was still talking to Simon. Loss and heartbreak briefly flitted across his expression before it was gone.
You expected to feel jealous that Wally was so torn up over Maddie. But you didn’t. Wally had shown you over and over again that he loved you. He would do anything for you. And what he had with Maddie was completely different. It was like what he had with Charley and Rhonda, unique and a part of keeping him whole.
If Maddie slipped away forever, then what would it do to Wally?
What would it do to all of you?
“If Janet is right, then whatever is happening at this school is…,” you trailed off, trying to think of the right word.
“Twisted,” Wally finished for you, echoing Charley’s earlier description of Janet and Mr. Martin’s experiments.
“Maybe it’s safer for Maddie if she’s not here to see the conclusion.”
Wally shook his head, keeping his gaze pinned on the floor. “Safer for Maddie,” Wally agreed with a sigh. “But what about us? What about you? Babe,” he started, turning in his seat to look at you. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I’ll be fine,” you promised him. “All I need is you.”
Wally smirked and opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Maddie coming back.
“I need to know,” Maddie told Janet as she approached her. There was desperation in her tone, making her words more of a plea than a demand. “I need to know what you and Mr. Martin were planning to do.”
“I’d like to know that too,” Rhonda chimed in, announcing her presence.
Quinn was standing at her shoulder, watching Janet with wary eyes.
“I didn’t want anyone to suffer,” Janet insisted. “I thought it was unfair. Cruel. To put you all through your deaths over and over again, hoping it would lend any clarity on what we’re facing here. So, I told Mr. Martin that I would do it. No one else. That was our deal.”
“What happened?” You didn’t exactly trust Janet now, but she was still your friend. A fellow member of the Split River Afterlife Club.
“I let him lock me in my scar. Our scar,” she clarified with a sad smile. “Over and over and over again,” she explained. “At first, it was terrifying. Disorienting. But then after maybe the fifth or sixth time, he started leaving me in there for longer periods of time. So long I didn’t know if he’d ever let me out again. And I was stuck. I always thought being stuck here, in this school, was the worst thing that could happen after I died. But it wasn’t. It could get so much worse.”
You shuddered at the thought of someone locking you inside your scar over and over. You had willingly stepped into yours and it was only Wally’s voice that had guided you out. You didn’t know what it would have done to you to be stuck inside with no hope of escape.
Wally put his arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer to him. He pressed a kiss to your temple, lending you comfort.
You had no doubt he was also imagining being stuck inside his own scar.
“Who was that woman?” Maddie asked once Janet stopped speaking.
“What woman?” Janet wondered, brow furrowed in confusion.
“The woman in your scar,” Maddie clarified.
Janet looked disturbed by the words. She shook her head, fixing Maddie with a perplexed expression.
“There is no woman in my scar,” Janet informed Maddie. “My father sometimes, yes, but not a woman.”
Maddie turned to look at the rest of you. “If that wasn’t Janet’s scar,” she started, not bothering to finish the rest of the thought.
“Then I don’t share a scar with Mr. Martin,” Janet posited, prompting Maddie to turn around to look at her again. “Because you were in his and not mine.”
“Holy plot twist, Batman,” Wally muttered, drawing a snort of laughter from you. His lips ticked up in a pleased grin when he caught your reaction.
Maddie pulled Mr. Martin’s watch from her pocket and set it on the table. “Then this isn’t your key,” Maddie told Janet.
“It must be Mr. Martin’s,” Janet remarked, reaching out for it only to have her hand hover over it, as if she was too scared to touch it. “But then what’s my key?”
Janet and Maddie studied each other across the table, trying to come up with an answer.
Before anything else could be said, the intercom screeched to life.
“Maddie,” Simon’s voice invaded the room. “It’s Mr. Martin.”
You felt Wally’s hold on you tighten.
“He’s here,” Simon warned.
“Well, fuck,” Wally breathed, glancing at you. “What the hell are we going to do about him?”
“We’ll trick him,” Janet decided. She fixed her gaze on Maddie. “And then we’ll trap him.”
I should have an update posted on the 14th for my Wally fic.
I'm currently working on the next chapters of my Isaac Lahey and Eric Northman fics. And I'm slowly but surely working on Umbrella Academy and Stranger Things updates.
So, hopefully, I'll start to have a more consistent posting schedule. 💖
