My Brother's Beta » Teen Wolf

thirty one

A terrible silence falls over the four of us. The worst silence I've ever experienced in my entire life.

"W-what?" My mouth can barely form words.

"Jess, I can't protect you anymore." Scott finally speaks up. I turn to him and notice tears in his eyes. "Think about it. You've already been in the hospital, how many times?"

I shake my head at him, feeling a tear slip down my chin.

"I can't, you can't-"

"It's already decided, Jessica." My mom says abruptly. Her voice is weak.

I cover my face with my hands. Everything hurts. "You can't just give me away like that,"

"Jess," My brother is next to me now, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me into him. I barely feel it.

"I'm so sorry." My mom is saying distantly. "It's the best thing to do right now."

I'm heaving ugly sobs now, tears flowing out of my eyes faster then they ever have. No, no, no, no-

"You can't!" I practically scream. Scott is softly crying into my hair. I push off of him.

He sits there, his eyes splotchy, looking defeated. Stiles is still on the other couch, motionless.

"This is my home," I turn to my mom. "Beacon Hils is my home."

"It's just San Francisco," My mom tells me. "Not that far."

She's wrong. San Francisco is nearly seven hours away. Far. Too far.

I can't just live a normal life without my mom. Or Scott. Or Liam. Or Stiles and Lydia and Mason and Lydia and Derek and-

"I'm not going." I say, nearly choking on the huge lump in my throat.

Scott is searching for words, his mouth agape, but nothing comes out. I stand up to leave.

My brother's hand shoots out and grabs my arm, his eyes big and brown, filled with such regret.

I yank out of his grip and walk across there room, throwing open the front door. I glance back one last time. Stiles has one hand rubbing his forehead and one playing with the edge of the couch anxiously. Scott is staring at me, his body tense and his eyebrows turned down in a mix of anger and fear. My mom has her gaze on the ground.

I walk out the door, pulling it closed behind me with a satisfying slam.

As soon as I get off the front steps, I start running.

My feet pound against the pavement of my driveway, then the street. The only thing I hear is the pounding of my heart in my ears.

It's a while before my legs start to ache and my breathing starts to shorten. My Converse aren't exactly ideal for long distance sprinting.

I look around to see where I ended up. I've somehow ended up on a back road, one winding throughout rows of huge trees. The sun is starting to set above the canopies.

I yank my phone out of my pocket. I have seven missed calls. Three from Scott, two from Stiles, one from my mom, one from Liam.