𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍, derek hale ✓

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

┏━━━━⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆━━━━┓

THE WINNER TAKES IT ALL

DESPITE FEELING BETTER BY A SMALL MARGIN, THE TASK IN FRONT OF HER SEEMED IMPOSSIBLE.

The ladder that Scott had brought to their rescue was staring her down, each step looking more daunting than the last.

Isaac was right behind her, hands outstretched in case she were to fall, and that was a very real concern due to the fact that she was already wobbling in place. She and Isaac were the lasts to go up, Emerson not wanting to cause them any more delay than already necessary, and just the thought of scaling it seemed crazy to her.

She was still feeling weak, swallowing the pain that begged to crawl up her throat as she tried hauling herself up it. A hand latched onto her back, the pain subsiding only until she swatted it away. "If you try taking my pain one more time Lahey," she began, snapping jaws and all, "I swear on all that is holy that I will p–personally cut your hand off."

Despite not seeing his facial reaction, the audible gulp she heard was enough. "Yeah sure; noted."

With the strength she was trying to muster up, she heaved herself up the ladder. If it took a little longer than she hoped, no be it, but she was ever so grateful to have the sheriff waiting at the top with his hand outstretched.

Once she was finally above ground, the first thing Emerson felt as she breathed out a sigh was immediate arms around her.

Her knees almost buckled at the sheer force of someone all but tackling her, though the small inhale she took made her senses flood with one thing: citrus, in the way most cleaning products were.

Yeah, she knew that scent.

"Happy to see me?" she joked, voice rasped around the edges as she couldn't help but hug the large figure back. She didn't care how it looked, knowing damn well she practically melted into the man's touch, because with the way he was gripping her form?

"Very," came Derek's heaved reply, tight grip still unrelenting as his chin rested on top of her head. "How do you always manage to get into the worst situations?"

She stepped back to look at him, hands reaching for the stubble of his jaw. His thumb was mindlessly rubbing against the apple of her cheek, while his other hand remained rooted near her waist. "Some bad luck, I suppose," she shrugged, and he looked unimpressed at the joke she was trying to make. Rather than upset him more, she asked, "did you hold down the fort?"

"She's dead," he responded without missing a beat, and a wave of comfort rushed through the blonde at the fact that Jennifer Blake could no longer hurt them. "Deucalion's gone." 

"What?" she asked, blinking up at the man. The pit in her stomach opened up again, wide as ever. "What do you mean he's gone, Derek? If he dead, o–or did he escape, or—"

Derek's other hand reached for her face, shaking his head. "Woah, let me explain, Em," he consoled, and she could only look at him. "Scott and I let him go."

Emerson didn't know why she was suddenly feeling so angry. "Are you actually insane?" she all but seethed. "He's dangerous, Derek! A fucking killer that you two just let—"

"My mom knew he was a man of vision," he interjected, "and I'd like to think he could find that vision again... but he also knows that if he fucks it up, we're coming for him."