People say we're products of our parents. that all of their good traits are passed onto us, that we pick up the bad traits along the way.
But what if our parents have no good traits? What does that make us?
Are we all bad?
Kinsey couldn't speak on...
Wind howled through a quiet loft in the waking hours of the morning. Besides the cruel wind that slid through every crack of the uneven bricks all that could be heard was the shallow breath of a dying teenage girl as her brother and uncle sat at her bedside, watching her condition worsen with every passing minute. In the hour that the three had found themselves retreating in the loft, her olive skin had turned to a pale white, hours away from resembling glass.
Things had never gone well for them in their years but never had things turn bad so quickly as they had tonight. In the ten minutes that Derek had been unconscious in an elevator things had changed drastically. While he awaited his rescue things had been taking a turn for the better, a plan had been established, everyone was safe, most somewhat unharmed, and there was hope. By the time he'd woken up to Stiles's fist edging towards his face, everything had changed. Most of the plan had been carried out, most parts of it had been successful, it had been in the final few steps that it all went wrong, as people began coming to terms with what was there all along.
His cousin had disappeared. Melissa had been taken. Scott had left to side with Deucalion, with the hopes it would change all that went wrong tonight. Peter had run for the hills, abandoning Cora with Isaac at the sight of the Argents, which he couldn't quite be blamed for, the last time he had seen the two of them had been when he murdered Kate, and they proceeded to burn him alive. They wouldn't provide him with the same treatment in his daughter had, which wasn't quite forgiveness, but acceptance that her mother and father were both bad people whose past had hurt more than just her. Both of them were well past being good people, two many lives had been ended by their hands, all she could do was hope that her father would try to change for her at least if he wanted to be a good father like he claimed.
Nobody had seen or heard from the girl since she had left the rooftop leaving Stiles stood on his own in cruel darkness, both of them abandoning him, for the first time, the three of them all felt truly alone, not even able to depend on the comfort of each other. Stiles waited in the hospital for when the cops come, hoping to hold them off for the sake of everyone else, they were going to wonder how the hospital had come to be in the state it was from a storm, a storm couldn't explain blood smeared against the walls, missing drugs, claw marks on floors, shapes of fists carved into cabinets. He didn't precisely have an explanation for any of those things, he planned on using Derek's excuse against whichever cop he was met with, that he had been stuck in an elevator during the entire evacuation with no way out. How could anyone argue with that? There were no cameras to prove him wrong, they'd all been cut out by the electricity. It was foolproof.
