Phoenix || Malia Tate

42

The moment those words leave his mouth, Malia feels all her emotions, the ones she allowed herself to the feel, and the ones she hasn't, begin to flood all at once. She spins on her heal to face him, and forces herself to hold back - because she has to hold back. She has to hide her concern, but it seems like no matter how hard she tries, she's not entirely convinced he buys it because there's so much, too much that she's trying to control. His eyes are watching her, intently, deeply, and all she can see is those quiet afternoons in the den. She whispers, "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

But the Sheriff speaks up before Phoenix does, and everything shifts once again. The moment is gone, and Malia pulls her hand away. The sheriff's tone is concerned as he speaks, "I have to agree with Malia, Phoenix. You're not exactly trained for this."

"No," Phoenix responds as his eyes leave Malia, "but I am her brother, and if she'll listen to anyone, it'll be me."

"You don't know that," Malia says. She can feel everyone's eyes one her but his are all that matter. "With the way she is right now - I don't think anyone, even you, will be able to get through to her."

"Malia," he says, and his voice is just as soft and as gentle as it was in their cave. "She's my sister. I have to try."

She can't find it in her to say anything, because for once in her life she wants to do the wrong thing and tell him not to go. She wants keep him safe and sound and all to herself. For once, she wants to be selfish.

But of course, he's good. Too good, maybe even for her. He takes her hand, and when the tears begin to well up, he pulls her close to him and that scent, those eyes, those arms wrapped around her - she's lost and found all at once. 

"I have to do this," he whispers to her. 

Malia smiles as she buries her face further into his chest. "I know."

*

In the end, it's decided. Sending Phoenix into hostile territory is not their smartest move - he can't heal like Scott or Malia can, and he doesn't have the training or experience that Sheriff Stilinski or even Stiles has. But if Ellie will see anyone, it's him.

Phoenix approaches the school steps now, his only protection a bulletproof vest under his hoodie, and thinks about the first time he came here. To this school, when he had first met Malia. He wonders how differently things would be if he had never made the move to find her. If he had just let her be this blurry image of a coyote turning into a girl somewhere deep in the woods. If he had just let her be a mystery. Would it have been worth it? Ellie getting pushed to this point, Scott almost dying, Phoenix  hurting Malia in the worst possible way - would the possibility of all those things never happening have been worth it if he'd never met her?

He decides not to answer that question. 

No. 

It's not actually a decision. 

It's not that he won't. It's that he can't, because if he does, he'd be the most selfish person in the world. 

He pushes the doors open. And it's empty.  The halls are silent, not a soul in sight, not a voice heard. Phoenix waits for something to happen, for Sheriff to storm through, or for Ellie's people to appear and hold him at gun point. But nothing happens. He walks, and the doors close behind with a loud thud. He doesn't look behind him, scared of what he just might do if he does. 

Instead, he thinks of what the Sheriff had told him. Ellie is holding everyone in gym. Don't go to the gym. Get her to come you, it's the safest option. 

Phoenix had hoped to talk one of her people to get her to come see him, but that's clearly not an option, with the unguarded hallways and all. He feels the picnic rise in his stomach and forces it down. There's no space for panic. He tries to put himself in Stiles' mind, then Scott's, then Lydia's, and then Malia's. What would they do? What would a person with a clear mind and even heartbeat do? 

His head snaps up with an idea. And he smiles. 

*

The gymnasium is crowded despite it's massive size. Students huddle together, as if by binding together will somehow make the bad people go away. As if being united will keep them safe. It's barely working. There are boys and girls who are struggling to keep their crying quiet, and an insane woman with golden hair and hazel eyes holding their lives in her hand. The detonator has not left her hand since she cam storming in, guns ablaze, and declared war upon them. Her bombs have been disturbed both throughout the gymnasium and throughout the school, all of them linked to the device she holds. No matter where they go, if she sets that timer, everyone in the building dies.

Ellie has kept a straight face. Despite the looks these children give her, and despite the lack of police cooperation, she has been unfaltered, unaffected by the results of her madness. When the static sounds through the overhead speakers, however, that changes. For a second, panic is evident. Worry and surprise catch her off guard as the static fades into a clear, deep voice. She knows that voice. She'd know it anywhere.

Nix. 

"El," her baby brother calls over the P.A system. "I'm ready to talk. Meet me by the front doors... I'll be waiting."