The Sicilian Defence [Derek Hale]

Chapter Sixty-Six

Braeden was at the loft with Derek right now. She'd come to supply Derek with more guns but I was already busy doing something else. Stiles had asked me to pick Liam up since for some reason we were bringing the actual child to help us save Scott. At the same time, he was a werewolf and a werewolf was what we needed if we were going to be fighting.

Liam climbed into the car beside me and I pulled out of the drive and headed back towards Derek's loft. We were meeting in the parking spot he had. Liam was shaking all the way and it was getting slightly annoying but at the same time, I understood. "You okay, kid?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah, course," he assured but from the way his voice wavered it was obvious that he wasn't.

"You don't have to lie. Least of all to me," I mused and I could feel him look over to me, "I didn't take to the supernatural too well either."

It was silent for a second before he spoke up, "you didn't?"

"Absolutely not. There were a lot of tears, a lot of bursts of anger, a lot of mistakes... I even went as far as running to the other side of the world." He raised his brow confused, "it doesn't get better, either. You're always gonna be chased by some form of monster whether they be supernatural or human. You're always gonna be fighting for your life. That's just how it is now," I explained before realising what I'd said, "not to scare you off or anything."

"Does it get easier? The werewolf thing?"

"No."

His eyes met mine as he tried to understand what I was talking about, "you know when it started for me...I went insane. I couldn't stop crying and I was so angry. Each morning I'd wake up and all I could think about was again? Really? I have to do all of this again? And I couldn't understand why no-one else was screaming," this probably wasn't helping, but I wasn't here to help. I needed him to know something and that wasn't the support he probably wanted. "Each time it gets worse and worse. It's war after war after war...and... then you remember something else."

"What's that?"

"Every happy memory. Every laugh, every smile, every moment you have ever had with your friends or the pack...they defend themselves. And something my uncle once told me is that... you can be struggling and still be strong. You can be crying your eyes out every night, but that doesn't make you weak. If you choose to stay out of it. If you choose to run or to avoid all fights in the future... you're not weak. Actually, that makes you even stronger because you're actively choosing to do something that's best for you."

"So you won't think I'm running if I don't fight."

"Hey, if you've been running...then that means I've been running to," I teased, and he nodded slightly. It was like a visible weight had lifted from his shoulder. "So I'm going to tell you something that the others didn't really understand with me, if you don't want to or can't fight... don't do it. Do what makes you happy and what makes you comfortable. Don't keep going through hell if you can find a way out of it - that doesn't involve death or being captured," I had to add on the last part. I'm aware that the context of Churchill's quote was about world war 2 and so the hell was quite different from the ones we were experiencing although sometimes it felt just the same.

"No, I want to fight. I want to help Scott. I just don't want to be afraid anymore."

"That fear is going to keep you alive... besides the bigger problem is Peter's comin' with us and he's a prick."

"Peter?"

"An absolute prick," I confirmed and he nodded taking note of the information.

As we pulled up, Braeden was already there with a prison transport van. I assumed that was going to be used for Liam since he was a werewolf who hadn't yet learnt control.