𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍, derek hale ✓

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

┏━━━━⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆━━━━┓

EMERSON AVENUE

THERE WASN'T A SINGLE SOUL AT BEACON HILLS HIGH THAT DIDN'T KNOW OF EMERSON AVERY.

Beacon Hills itself was a smaller place to live in the grand scheme of Californian towns, and she'd shown up in the middle of her freshman year, too. A total nobody— a stranger amidst people who'd grown up together and never left.

Rumours spread, because of course they did in a small town. Some found it strange that she had no online presence, that she left no digital trail for the students to sniff out. She was a teenager, one who had no Facebook or MySpace or Instagram, so she must've been weird in some way or another.

Others found it strange that she was living with a deputy, that the woman who was well known and well-liked in town had taken in a new niece. Deputy Prescott never mentioned her family much, so having Emerson turn up out of the blue obviously stirred some confusion.

People whispered about her as though she was an oddity, and perhaps she was.

Shit like that could draw up enough attention, sure, but that wasn't what had put her name on blast for all of her peers to truly know.

No one had expected the new girl, this little blonde who undoubtably had a crazy resting bitch face, to try out for the varsity soccer team and blow through her competition. She was borderline vicious on the field, a sort of coordination that could only be chalked up to natural talent.

Emerson commanded the attention of those around her, something that became evident in the team scrimmages they had to play out. This nobody was a natural leader, and when push came to shove, she usually shoved back. Harder.

By the end of the third and final week of tryouts, the white captaincy band was ripped from a junior student named Julie Webber and was immediately tossed in her direction. Coach Brinley wore an impressed smile, fist bumps were hurled in her direction, and suddenly, everyone knew her name.

She led the team to their first state championship victory that very same year, and the year after that. Not only that, but despite a runner-up status during her third year of captaincy, everyone was banking on the team securing a final win for Emerson's final year.

Lacrosse would forever and always be the number one sport, but Emerson helped ensure that soccer would at least be a solid second.

So yeah, everyone knew of Emerson in some way or another as a top athlete or a friendlier face in the halls, but no one, and I mean no one, really knew who she was.

No one really knew the kind of power that coursed through her veins— the kind that could pass off her athleticism as natural talent.

It was the power of an alpha.

.ೃ࿔*:⋆

Emerson Alcott was born under the most unfair of circumstances, and really, she was doomed right from the start.

Her mother, some faceless and nameless woman she never got the chance to know, died just seconds before she even opened her eyes for the first time. Her father, some other faceless and nameless man she also never got the chance to know, disappeared on them when he realized fatherhood wasn't really his thing.

Her grandmother was the only familial tie she had, one she only had until she was about six years old and still too young to understand why she was cursed with the life she lived or why she was so affected by the full moon.

She was too young to understand how the red glow of her eyes spoke to such power— such power she inherited from her mother upon her death.

Though, at the time, all she did understand was that they had to keep moving— if they stopped, the bad man from her grandmother's bedtime stories would snatch her up, and she would never be seen again.

The bad man was a scary entity, almost like the boogeyman for normal children. But Emerson wasn't a normal child in the slightest, and this horrible monster from the stories hunted children like her. He killed them, just because of what they were.

Looking back, Emerson knew it was a great way to get her to fall in line as a rowdy child— a rowdy child that was being hunted by the bad man.

She was in the garden one morning when the man from the bedtime stories became real, and not just a figure of fiction. Hell, she hadn't even known the man by the tree line was him, until her scent soured enough to garner her grandmother's attention.

The old woman rushed out, assessing the way the man's lip curled at the sight of them. With a speed she rarely saw from the woman, Emerson watched as Agatha Alcott raced up to her, reaching into her pocket.

She revealed a silver bracelet, one she fastened on the girl's wrist with haste, so tightly that she whined at the sensation. The next thing she noticed, before she had the chance to cry out in confusion, was how her sense of smell had vanished entirely.

"Wh—"

"Do not take this off," the old woman barked out, like she was in a rush, "and go to the Petersons home! Now!"

Emerson blanched nervously, actively shaking her head as the man walked closer, almost leisurely. "But—"

"I will meet you there, just go!"

Only, her grandmother would never meet her at the Petersons home a couple streets away. Her body would crumple to the garden ground after failing to give up the child— for trying to stop the bad man with those devious red eyes.

Red eyes that should've mimicked her own, but didn't. No, they were darker... tainted, somehow.

The Petersons were a family of werewolves, like she and her grandmother were, and were aware of just what would happen if the man caught up to them. So, they followed the plan that Agatha Alcott laid out in the event of an emergency; and yeah, this was an emergency.

From then on out, Emerson was bounced around to different people who owed her late mother a favour. She was at least a little thankful that her mother had seemingly been a nice enough person, one that was loved enough by the masses who were ready to help the young alpha out.

She'd stay with them, assuming the identity of an estranged niece, until the bad man would catch up to her. She was never in one place for too long, and even without a scent, he always seemed to find her.

Beacon Hills had been a last ditch effort as the list of volunteers became shorter and shorter. It was becoming too risky, like harbouring a fugitive that had a hefty bounty on their head, and no one felt like dealing with the consequences of getting caught with her.

Her documents were always forged before she touched down somewhere, her most recent surname of choice was something as mundane as Avery, and all she really had that was her own was her name.

Emerson— like the avenue of the small little home she was born in.

No one would ever know the real Emerson, and that was something she had come to terms with a very long time ago.

Oh, how wrong she would soon be.

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆

[ wyn's note ]

hi my loves, and welcome to COME DOWN SOON !! i've lowkey been dying to write another enemies to lovers, and this came to me in a vision after my lizzy mcalpine concert haha

my og baddies will recognize this plot/my girl emerson from a fic i started monthssssss ago (but this'll be majorly revamped)

first two chaps will be coming out this week (ie by wednesday lol) because this is the only thing i'm really invested in atm

all my love, lmk ur initial thoughts <3