Hidden Hale

Where's the V-Neck?

The first thing I did when I saw Peter Hale for the first time in six years was cry. Pathetic, I know, but the sight of him was a trigger for all of the memories of home I had been suppressing. I remember when he read me and Cora bedtime stories and warned us off boys until we were twenty six. I remember having baking sessions with him that inevitably became flour fights which were obviously won by him, as a werewolf, but he pretended it was close because that's what adults do- they humour little kids they care about. I remember when he would take me, Derek, Laura and Cora out for picnics if the weather was warm and our parents were too busy.

Speaking of my eldest sister, "Laura died a few days ago," I told the comatose man in front of me. "She was checking out rumours of a new alpha and whoever it was killed her. Or an Argent. They're back in town too. Don't worry. I'll kill whoever it was. And I'll hunt down Kate bloody Argent too.

"So. I know you can hear me, even if you can't respond. I just want to say thank you. You could have left me in the fire, had a long, happy life, but you saved me, even at the cost of, well... this. I know that it must be torture, a werewolf unable to move and, oh god, I'm probably making it worse talking about it now, aren't I?

"Your nurse said you'd probably like to hear some meaningless chatter so here goes. I'm back in Beacon, clearly. Derek came too. He's trying to convince me to go to school since we're staying to help the new beta, but honestly the idea of actually attending school makes me want to throw up. I own half of the Hale fortune in the vault, which means I have like fifty eight and a half million dollars, so why would I need a job?

"Speaking of money, Derek totally suspended my allowance! How unfair is that? He said that I was wasting all my money on frivolous junk- tell me, when did clothes stop being a necessity? Besides, I'm a millionaire orphan, I have to look the part. If I was ginger, sure, but Annie's the only ugly orphan who can pull it off. I'm more of a Marilyn Monroe type orphan. And it was totally hypocritical of Derek to say I waste my money; he buys more clothes than I do. Granted that's because he's got bloodstains on all of his, but that's beside the point. I-"

I trailed off when I felt pressure on my hand. Staring at the fingers wrapped around mine, I quickly called the nurse. "He's waking up! What the hell could be more important than this; stop painting your nails, they're a lost cause."

Shooting me a dirty glance the nurse rushed over and sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. There was no change in brain activity. You must have imagined it."

"I don't imagine things," I told her. "So check again. He moved, I swear to god." She shook her head. "Whatever," I sighed. "I need to  get home. Just, do me a favour okay?  Cut his hospital gown neckline into a V-Neck. He looks weird without it."

Ignoring her confused expression, I brushed past the nurse and strutted out of the hospital. Here's a life hack: when you feel like crap, act confident and you'll eventually be so. In other words, fake it til you make it.

When I got home I was greeted with the sight of my brother being escorted into a police car. "Derek?" I called, confused. "What's going on?"

A young police deputy walked up to me. "Abigail Hale?" I nodded. "You are under suspicion for manslaughter. You have the right to remain silent."

I snorted. "Why are we under suspicion? I'm a teenager and we're both only newly back to town."

"The body was found on your property," Deputy Parrish stated angrily and my smile disappeared. They found Laura and I'm pretty sure Scott and Stiles have something to do with it. "Now, care to give me an explanation?"

I brushed past him, making my way over to Derek. "You said I had the right to silence. I'm cashing it in."

Once Derek and I were safely handcuffed and escorted into the police car, an annoying little face popped up: Stiles Stilinski. God, what did I do to deserve this?

"Okay, just so you know, I'm not afraid of you." Derek raised an eyebrow threateningly. "Okay, maybe I am. Doesn't matter. I just wanna know something. The girl you killed - she was a werewolf. She was a different kind, wasn't she? I mean, she could turn herself into an actual wolf, and I know Scott can't do that. Is that why you killed her?"

"You think we killed her?" I asked, horrified. "Why would you think that?"

"Her body was buried under your house."

"Yes, buried. Under wolfsbane. In a proper burial ritual for werewolves. Because she was our sister."

"Oh!" This seemed to excite the Stilinski boy. "So was it like a sibling rivalry? You were jealous your sister had more power so you tore her apart. There: motive."

I lunged at him, but Derek unfortunately held me back. "Calm down," he whispered harshly. "Do you want to get into more trouble than you're already in? That's the Sheriff's son."

I rolled my eyes and shoved him off me. "Whatever." I turned to face the hyperactive spaz who was looking like he may wet his pants any second. "Just know, one day I'm going to punch you in the face for this. Hard. And it'll probably break your nose and it might give you concussion and you can know that you've caused a lot more pain with even the insinuation that I would ever hurt Laura."

"So maybe you didn’t kill her," Stiles gulped. "Doesn't mean your brother didn't."

Derek lifted his arms up exasperatedly.  "Why are you so worried about me when it's your friend who's the problem? When he shifts on the field, what do you think they're gonna do. Just keep cheering him on? I can't stop him from playing, but you can. And, trust me - you want to."

Before I could emphasise my agreement with a hearty description of every minute detail of how Baby Beta would kill everyone in those stands, the Sheriff came and kicked his son out, ruining my fun. I could see him getting yelled at through the window though, so silver lining.

I reclined my head back onto my brother, ignoring the glare he sent me for presuming to force him to make human contact without permission. "So I've never been arrested before. I'm a prison virgin. This should be fun."

"I do not want to hear about any kinds of your virginity," Derek cringed. "Just... shut up. I need to concentrate on not ripping you to shreds and your stupidity doesn't help."

Ouch.  I'm going to be locked in a cell with a grouchy werewolf who's temper's been flared up by an idiotic teen  with a stupid buzzcut who throws around murder accusations as if the world's running out. Joy of joys.