Chapter Text
Talia looks up from her phone and waves Aaron over. He sits down in the grass next to her, leans over, and reads Peter’s latest text. It reads, ‘He’s cooperating. You can break the news to Cora.’ Aaron lets out a long breath. “Do you want to do that now? Or do you think it would be better to wait a few days? Let the conditioning wear off?”
Talia shakes her head wearily and pushes a hand through her hair. “We can’t explain his absence any other way. If he just disappears, stops answering her phone calls, she’ll just get upset for different reasons. And then most likely upset at us for hiding the truth, and I couldn’t blame her. It’s better if we do this now. Rip off the Band-Aid, so to speak.”
Aaron nods and says, “I’m going to have Laura take the kids out of earshot.”
“Okay.” Talia gets to her feet and walks over to where Cora is sitting on one of the swings, not really pushing herself back and forth, but just sitting there. “Honey, come talk to me for a minute,” she says, and Cora blinks at her lethargically. Talia extends her hands and gets Cora off the swing so they’re both sitting down in the grass. She watches as Laura scoops up Sylvia and herds Tyler off to the edge of the park to examine a fountain there. Aaron comes back over a few moments later so he can sit with them.
“It’s about Seth,” Talia says.
Cora’s gaze drops. “You’re finally getting rid of him, aren’t you.”
Talia lets out a breath. There’s no easy way to say it, and no purpose to lying. “Yes, honey. He’s not your mate.”
Cora’s eyes fill with tears. “He is,” she says. “I know he, he’s awful, but he is.”
“No.” Talia takes her daughter’s chin in one hand, is careful to keep her tone moderated and gentle, even though she’s itching to go break every bone in Seth’s body. “He’s not. And I know you don’t believe me, and that’s okay. You’ve been drugged, and brainwashed, and God, I – I wish I had been able to put a stop to this sooner. But until we had figured out what exactly he was doing, we didn’t know how to help you, didn’t know if simply making him leave would help.”
“You can’t take him away from me,” Cora begs. “Please, Mom, you can’t. I’ll – I’ll go with him if I have to.”
Talia’s eyes flare red despite her best efforts. “You are not going anywhere,” she says. “You’re my beta. You belong to this pack.” She feels Aaron’s hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and tries to calm down. “Seth isn’t your mate, and you’re going to feel better about this in a few days, once what he’s done to you has had some time to wear off.”
“I don’t, I don’t understand,” Cora says. “He wasn’t doing anything to me.”
“He was, Cora,” Aaron says gently. “You just don’t remember it. That was part of the brainwashing. There was magic involved.”
“Cora,” Talia says. “You have to trust us. Can you trust us?”
“I do,” Cora says, and starts crying. “I trust you, Mommy. But it doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t feel real.”
“I know, honey, I know,” Talia says, pulling her into an embrace. “I’m so sorry that this happened. I promise that we’re going to make everything okay. For now you can be as, as angry and upset as you want. He’s not going to hurt you again. I promise.”
Cora’s crying too hard to talk, so for several long minutes, Talia just rocks her back and forth. Finally, she sniffles and starts to settle down. “He . . . he was so awful and . . . sometimes I hated him but . . . but I thought I would die if he left me.”
“You’re not going to die, Cora,” Talia says. “You’re going to be fine. I won’t lie, this might not be easy. You’re going to feel pretty awful over the next few days. You’re going to feel really alone and scared and hurt. But we’ll get you through it. Once the magic wears off, you’ll start to feel better. Remember last week? Didn’t you feel better on Thursday and Friday?”
“Yeah, I . . . I guess so.” Cora sniffles again. “I had fun at Stiles’ party.”
“That was because we managed to keep him from giving you any drugs or doing the magic for a few days,” Talia says. “So just hang in there, okay? Pretend you’re sick. Just a virus. It’ll pass.”
“I’ve never been sick,” Cora says.
“Your mother isn’t the best at metaphors,” Aaron says, and is rewarded with a wan smile. He rubs his hand over Cora’s hair. “Just know that we’re here. Whatever you need. Even if you’re angry at us. That’s okay. But we’re your pack, and you’re not going to be alone. Not ever.”
Cora wipes a hand over her eyes. “How . . . how did you find out?”
Talia’s gaze flickers to Aaron and then she says, “Well, that’s what Peter does.”
“It was Stiles, wasn’t it,” Cora says miserably. “He knew right from the start. He wouldn’t let it go. Seth was so awful to him.”
Talia isn’t sure what to say, because she doesn’t want Cora to be mad at Stiles. None of this is his fault. But she doesn’t want to lie, either. She goes for a middle path. “I think he helped Peter put some of it together.”
Cora nods and nestles closer to her mother. “Will you . . . tell them I said thank you? I don’t think I’ll be able to say it to them myself.”
“Sure,” Talia says, hugging her tighter.
~ ~ ~ ~
Stiles hides in the kitchen while his father deals with Peter. Frankly, he doesn’t want to hear how that’s going to go. He just hopes that Seth is still breathing when his father gets there, since he doesn’t really trust Peter not to kill the teenager as soon as his back is turned. Tom disappears into the shed for quite a long time before he comes into the kitchen to talk to Stiles. Stiles half-expects his father to start asking him questions or listing problems, but all he does is say, “You did good, kid,” and gives him a hug. Stiles suspects that he’s being praised more for his lack of homicidal intent than his sleuthing, but he’ll take what he can get. While he’s working on dinner, Derek is going around the front hallway, living room, anywhere that Seth has been recently, and spraying it down with a strong-smelling cleaner. He doesn’t want Cora to come home and smell her ex-mate all over the house.
“Is it going to be okay to leave him in prison?” Derek asks when he’s done, watching Tom lead Seth out to the cruiser in handcuffs. “What if the people who hire him come after him to shut him up?”
“Well, then it’ll be his own fault for getting involved in something so shady, and you can’t fucking blame me,” Stiles says, and Derek gives a snort of laughter despite himself. “But I doubt they will. They know we won’t let him out of our sight until he’s spilled the beans, so they’ll know the damage is done. They could still kill him, but it’d be a risk, and I think they’re too smart to take it.”
Derek’s jaw tightens. “Is it bad that I almost wish they would kill him, if that got them to make a mistake we could use to find them?”
“I have to admit to similar thoughts,” Stiles says, and sighs. He’s about to say something else, but then the oven timer goes off. He leans down to get the roast out of the oven, checks it with the meat thermometer, and proclaims it satisfactory. “When I say ‘Jack Babylon’, what pops into your head?”
“Uh . . . nothing,” Derek says. “Why?”
“It’s the name of Seth’s contact. Obviously fake.” Stiles shrugs. “When people choose fake names, a lot of the time they include something personal that might give them away. And if it were something like Jack I-Hate-Werewolves, that might be helpful. But I can’t see what the fuck Babylon would have to do with what’s going on.”
“There’s a lot of Biblical imagery,” Derek says, rubbing a hand over his hair. “Stuff in Revelations. Maybe they’re trying to say it’s going to be the end of the world.”
“Maybe,” Stiles says thoughtfully. “That would make sense. I mean, just think about it – think about what would have happened if they had announced right before the Ceremonies next year that they had used the ceremonies to successfully infiltrate a werewolf pack. Jesus, it would be chaos.”
“Yeah,” Derek agrees, grimacing. “But what would be worse would be if they didn’t announce it. Because they actually could use it to infiltrate a werewolf pack. We all knew something was wrong with Seth because he was such an asshole right from the beginning. But imagine if he wasn’t. Imagine if they researched Cora, her personality, her interests, and had someone actually try to fit the role? We would never have suspected anything. They would’ve had a sleeper agent right inside our pack and we would never have been the wiser.”
“Jesus,” Stiles says. “And there’s nothing saying that the brainwashing would need to be reinforced so vigorously if that were the case, either. It could be permanent after a while, if the victim wasn’t perpetually trying to kick it off. You know, there’s nothing even saying that we were the only ones. We were a test case, sure, but we might not have been the only test case. They might have picked us to be the one where the plant antagonized us, to see how far we could be pushed, but what if there are others? Other packs around the country where someone was tricked into choosing the wrong person?”
“Oh, Christ,” Derek agrees. He shakes his head and says, “We’ll track it back to the source. We have to. At least now that we can get rid of Seth, we’re all in this together.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
Derek draws him into another hug. They stand there in silence for a minute before he looks up and says quietly, “I can hear Dad’s car. Which means I’ll be able to hear Laura’s in a minute.” The size of Aaron’s car is an ongoing family joke. “Do you want to stay in here?”
“Yeah,” Stiles says, then adds in a rush, “D’you think she’s mad at me?”
Derek hesitates, then answers truthfully. “I think she might be, today. But I know that she won’t be in a few days.”
Stiles lets out a breath. “Yeah, I – okay. Yeah. I’ll just – stay in here.”
Derek nods, kisses him on the forehead, and then heads out into the front hallway. The door opens a few moments later. Aaron has an arm around Cora’s shoulders, and he leads her into the house. She looks absolutely miserable, pale and exhausted and heartbroken. But she doesn’t flinch away when Derek gives her a hug; if anything, she clings, pressing her face into his chest. He squeezes her tight and rubs her back.
Finally, she pulls away, wipes her eyes and says, “I’m just going to go . . . to my room. And . . . hide there. Okay?”
“Sure,” Talia says, and Cora trudges up the stairs without another word. Talia’s gaze follows her, and she lets out a sigh as she hears the door upstairs shut. Then she proceeds into the kitchen.
“How is she?” Stiles asks anxiously.
“I think she’s handling it about as well as could be hoped,” Aaron says. “She’s upset, hurt, angry. Relieved. Guilty about being relieved. It’s a lot to process.”
“Angry?” Stiles asks, fiddling.
“Not at you,” Talia says, and Stiles breathes a sigh of relief. “In fact, she asked me to thank you on her behalf, for looking out for her.”
“Oh,” Stiles says. “That . . . that’s nice.” He looks over at the counter, taking a moment to collect himself. “Oh, uh, dinner’s ready. If anyone cares.”
For a moment it looks like someone might say they’re not really hungry and/or in the mood for a family meal. But then Talia manages a smile and says, “Let’s eat, then.”
The pack gathers around the table, minus Cora, of course, and Peter is still nowhere to be seen. Stiles thinks he’s cleaning up in the warehouse, or possibly reviewing the answers he got from Seth. He doesn’t expect to see him, but he comes in just as the dishes start being passed around. He takes his normal seat at Talia’s left, and Aaron hands him the iced tea.
“What are you thinking?” Talia asks him.
“That he knew disappointingly little, in the end,” Peter says. “Whoever used him was very smart about it. He knew virtually nothing about Gerard’s murder. Didn’t even know they were planning to kill him or what they wanted my fingerprints for. All of his contact was through intermediaries. I very much doubt we’ll be able to track down the elusive Jack Babylon, although of course I’ll do my best. If it weren’t for Cora’s welfare, I might have tried to have him fake the next meeting and followed him to it, but . . .” He gives his head a little shake. “Tom is going to have him sign an affidavit as to his involvement in my fingerprints turning up at Gerard’s house, so who knows? Perhaps I’ll stay a free man after all.”
“You’d better,” Laura says, nudging him with her elbow.
“There is, of course, concern that Seth was not the only person employed to this purpose,” Peter says, and Stiles glances up, since he and Derek had been saying the same thing. “It will be difficult to recommend a thorough vetting of all other mates chosen this year without setting off alarm bells. We’ll want to think about that.”
“Weren’t they basically asking to get caught, though?” Jonathan asks, cutting up pieces of the roast for Tyler. “I mean, by having Seth be so antagonistic?”
“I think they knew we would reject him,” Peter says, “but I don’t think that they knew we would discover his true purpose. Look at what happened – the moment Seth became concerned that I was too suspicious of his motives, they maneuvered to get me arrested and thrown in jail. No, they didn’t want to get found out.”
Aaron taps his fork against his plate. “And now they know we found them out.”
Peter nods.
“What’s going to stop them from releasing the information?” Aaron asks.
“Nobody wants to introduce an imperfect product onto the market,” Talia says. “My bet is that they’ll lay low and start all over next year.”
“Yes, that would be my assumption as well,” Peter says, “but we can’t overlook the possibility that we were targeted for more reasons than Seth knew. We have our share of enemies. We know a certain number of things about the larger force at work. For starters, they have a lot of money. Secondly, they are working with or at least have access to an alpha werewolf. Thirdly, they have someone who’s good with computers – they had altered those old news articles, et cetera. They also have a witch. What this points to is that we are not dealing with an individual, but an organization.” He calmly dishes himself up a second serving of potatoes. “Stiles, you have a friend who’s good with computers, do you not?”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” Stiles says. “My friend Danny. He helped me get some of the info from Seth’s bank account and stuff.”
“Good. We’re going to need his services again. We need to see if we can track down where this original ad was posted from, where the e-mails Seth received came from, et cetera. “ Peter takes a bite and then says, “We’ll pay him for his time, of course.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Stiles says. He’s suddenly exhausted, which is ridiculous, given how late he slept.
“I have some additional leads on the elusive ‘Jack Babylon’ I want to hit up,” Peter says, and then frowns. “Although until Tom has negotiated with the authorities in Santa Rosa, I still can’t leave Beacon Hills. I might need you to do some legwork for me.”
Talia clears her throat. “People who are not supposed to be in school can do legwork for you, Peter.”
Peter frowns at her, looking somewhat offended that she would dictate his use of resources. Then he glances at Stiles, who cringes. “Stiles?”
“I’m kinda . . . slipping in a couple of my classes,” Stiles admits.
“I can help you, Uncle Peter,” Laura interjects, to take the focus off Stiles and his embarrassment. “Jonathan’s parents can watch the kids a few afternoons if I need them to.”
“I can make the time, too,” Aaron says, nodding.
“Well, I suppose,” Peter says.
~ ~ ~ ~
The Sunday morning after Seth’s departure is somewhat subdued. Peter is nowhere to be seen. Stiles had trouble sleeping, and had wound up staying up half the night making notes about Seth’s confession. He only vaguely stirs when Derek leans over and gives him a good morning kiss. Since brunch obviously won’t be happening, Aaron goes out to get coffee and donuts. They’re half-eaten and it’s nearly eleven AM when Talia glances at the clock and sighs. “Derek, would you go check on your sister?”
Derek nods. After a few moments to think, he grabs a plate, puts two of Cora’s favorite kind of donut on it, and then grabs another for himself. He also gets her a mug of tea and then heads up the stairs and gently knocks on her door. There’s no reply. “Cora?” he calls out. He knows that she’s inside; he can hear her heartbeat. He doesn’t want to pull the ‘mom sent me to check on you’ card because that’s very close to the ‘your alpha demands a response’ card. “I brought donuts. They have little sprinkles.”
“Go away,” Cora says from somewhere inside. She doesn’t sound angry. Just miserable.
“Would you leave me alone if I sounded that unhappy?” Derek asks through the door.
There’s a moment of silence. “No. Asshole.”
“That’s what I thought. Now let me in so I can feed you sugar.”
The doors don’t lock – a sensible precaution in the home of a family that’s now survived two assassination attempts – but a moment later it opens and Cora stands back to let him in. She looks terrible. Her eyes are red-rimmed and tired, and the dark smudges underneath them indicate that she didn’t sleep well, if she slept at all. She’s wearing gym shorts and an oversized T-shirt, and her hair is in her face. She takes the mug of tea but ignores the donuts.
Derek closes the door behind himself and sets the plate down on her desk. After a few moments, he reaches out and gently moves her hair out of her face, but doesn’t say anything. He lets her keep her silence. She leans forward, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around her, careful of the mug full of tea but hugging her close all the same.
“Did they kill him?” she finally asks, her voice wavering.
“No. And no one is planning to.” Derek is glad he can give her that, because lie or not, she still feels connected to Seth.
“Mom said . . .” Cora pulls away, wiping impatiently at her eyes. “That I’d been brainwashed or something.”
“Something was done to you.” Derek doesn’t see the point in keeping the truth from her. “Something to make you, force you to think he was your mate.” He stays close to her, although she seems to be done being hugged for the moment. A human might want space, but closeness would help Cora more.
“I don’t – I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to feel about this,” Cora says, pushing her hands through her hair. “I mean, part of me’s happy? Because he was such a jerk? But part of me is sad because it feels like – like some part of me I can’t live without is just gone and I – ” Her voice hitches and she turns away, pressing one hand over her mouth.
Derek takes the tea and pulls her into another hug. “It’s okay for you to be upset,” he says, although he thinks this might be the understatement of the century.
“Why did he do this to me?” Cora chokes out, clinging to her brother.
“Because he’s . . .” Derek stops himself before he can say anything bad about the man that, at the moment, she still loves. “He’s working with bad people. They wanted to see if they could pull this off, force someone to pick a mate who isn’t right for them.” He tightens his hold for a few moments. “And we were good targets because of what happened with Mom and Stiles.”
“But . . . he’s not my mate?” Cora asks desperately. “You’re sure? You’re like, positive?”
“He’s not. We’re sure.” He says it again, just so she can hear it. “He’s not.”
“Okay.” Cora pulls away again and grabs a tissue from the box off her desk. “How long before – before it stops feeling like he is?”
“I don’t know exactly. But it will get better.” He rubs his cheek over her hair. “And you can ask any of us to tell you that as often as you want.” He knows that the more often she hears it, the more she’ll believe it, but he doesn’t know that telling her that will help.
Cora picks up a donut and starts to pick at the sprinkles. “Are the others – are people mad at me?” she asks in a small voice. “For bringing him home?”
“No.” Derek smoothes his hand down over her hair. “Why would we be mad at you? We’re angry for you, but not at you.”
“I just – I feel like I should have – should have known, or, or been smarter, or been able to – ”
“Go against the instinct that we’re taught to trust?” Derek says, shaking his head. He’s maybe judging her with his eyebrows. Just a little.
“When it told me that someone so awful was my mate, then yeah, maybe,” Cora says.
“You didn’t know. And besides, people don’t always get along. Look how long it took Stiles and Mom to manage being honestly civil to each other.”
“Yeah, well, they had issues,” Cora says. She starts tearing the donut into pieces. “I mean, Seth was so awful to everyone. Especially to Stiles. I’d be mad at me, if I were him.”
“Oh, he’s mad all right.” Stiles is kind of terrifying, actually. Peter’s showed him some select moments from the video. But now isn’t the time to think about how much that turns him on. “But not at you. He was the first one to really pick up on the fact that something had to be going on. That Seth was just wrong. Because he knows you. We all do. We know you wouldn’t pick someone like that if you had a choice.”
“You . . . you do?” Cora asks, looking up at her brother with painful uncertainty in her face.
Derke nods. “Why would you pick someone who made you so unhappy?”
“I . . . I guess that makes sense,” Cora says. “I mean. Stiles made you unhappy, but it wasn’t because of Stiles, it was just . . . other stuff was going on.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and starts nibbling on the donut.
“Exactly. I would have put up with Seth forever if he had made you happy. And if he had actually been your mate, he would have wanted to make you happy.”
“I tried to tell myself . . . that he was trying, you know? That I had to give him time. But like . . . when I think back, there are times I know I was really mad at him and it just . . . everything seems so blurry now.”
“Because you were being drugged,” Derek reminds her. “It’ll get better.”
“Right.” Cora huffs out a breath. “Well, I can’t hide in here all day.”
“Nope. Come on out. We can watch Disney movies on the sofa all day if you want.”
“Okay. But I don’t . . . I don’t want everyone to try to talk to me about it, okay?”
“Okay,” Derek says.
“I’m just gonna go shower first.” Cora reaches up for another hug. “Thanks, Derek.”
~ ~ ~ ~