The Alpha's Keeper

The Old and The New

A guidance counselor? Seriously? I knew I shouldn't have gone to school today but Derek had insisted on it. He said I couldn't avoid my life – or my family – but that was left unsaid. After last night, Sheriff Stilinski had insisted that Scott, Stiles, and I see our school counselor because he thought what we went through could have 'traumatic impacts on your impressionable minds". Yeah, I know, total bullshit. But I listened because my mom had been called by the counselor this morning to ask her if this was okay. And somehow she agreed. Weird, I thought she totally disowned me now. That was sarcasm, by the way. So that was where I sat; in Ms. Morrell's office.

"Evelyn, you know why you're here?" she asked me. I nodded, crossing my arms with a disgruntled sigh as I slumped farther into her slightly comfortable office chair. But my nod didn't seem to satisfy her. "You're here because you went through a very traumatic experience." She said, answering her own question. "You were held hostage by one of your peers. You were shot. Something like that doesn't just let you continue on with your life without acknowledging it." She explained, giving me a slight shrug.

Sheriff Stilinski told the other officers that I had been shot and I tried to brush them away to hide my healing. But the bullet apparently didn't go through me like I had originally thought. So my wound had only barely healed. To them, it was remarkable that I was alive. Shortly after having the bullet removed, my healing kicked in. now I have to fake the pain of any gunshot victim. I wanted to tell her I've been through worse. That I have been shot before and almost died a few times. But she wouldn't understand. If I said anything, it would just make my life even crazier. Crazy is exactly what I was trying to avoid right now.

"How do you feel about what Matt did?" she asked, seeming to notice that I wasn't giving anything up without a fight. "I heard that when you're drowning, you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. It's like your instinct is to keep the water out, no matter how freaked you are. No matter what, you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head is about to explode. But then, when you finally let the water in, it doesn't hurt anymore. It's not scary. It might even be peaceful." I told her. I never mentioned Matt or anything that he did. But I knew that he drowned after the ordeal at the police station. "Are you saying you hope Matt felt some peace in his last moments?" she asked me, reading too far into my words. "No. I hope he didn't. I don't feel sorry for him." I told her, trying to keep my voice as plain as it can be. "Can you feel sorry for the nine year-old Matt who drowned?" she asked me, trying to push my buttons until something happened.

"He shot me!" I growled at her, leaning towards her desk. "Generally speaking, I don't like people who shoot me." I told her, reigning in my emotions again and leaning back into the chair again, crossing my arms. I pretended to wince just so she would think it still hurt. "Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to go off killing them one by one. I mean, I guess shooting me wasn't the worst thing that he did but I still hate him for it. But the guy was definitely riding the crazy train." I told her, glaring slightly. "You sound like – the way you say things makes it sound like you've been shot before." she told me, giving me a scrutinizing gaze. I just shrugged. I didn't care if she thought I was a bad kid and that I might be a drug dealer or be in a gang. Her opinion never mattered to me.

"Tell me about your relationships with people." She said, changing the subject rapidly. "Who?" I asked her, hiding the suspicion in my voice very well. "How about your mother or Scott? Some friends? Maybe your boyfriend?" she suggested, shrugging as if this was a casual conversation. "Fine. They're all just fine." I told her, aggravated that she was getting into my personal life when this was all about what Matt did. "And if they weren't," I started to tell her, getting to my feet and tossing my bag over my shoulder. "I would deal with them myself. The only reason I'm here is because Sheriff Stilinski insisted." I growled at her. Her eyes widened slightly at the hostility in my voice. "Have a good day, Ms. Morrell." I told her curtly before turning towards the door.

"Hyper-vigilance." Ms. Morrell called out, her words stopping me just as my hand reached the doorknob. "Which is?" I asked her, turning only slightly. I saw her knowing smile out of the corner of my eye. She knew she had me hooked. "it's the persistent feeling of being under threat. Usual symptoms are lack of sleep, jumpiness, the constant, overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible is about to happing." She explained, her knowing smile still in place as she tried to get a better look at my expression from where she sat. "Have you felt anything like that lately?" she asked me, her hands folded on her desk neatly. I turned back towards the door, not letting her see my face. "All the time." I whispered to myself before pulling open the door and leaving her office. I wonder if she heard me. But I couldn't worry about that right now. I had other things to deal with.

I arrived home later that night with a heavy sigh, my stomach sinking to the floor. This would be the first time I truly faced mom since she saw what me and Scott are. I had been avoiding it this whole time but I couldn't anymore. She was too important to me to let her just slip away now. I dropped my bag near the front door and moved slowly up the stairs. I knew the first floor was silent. But something was happening upstairs. I moved down the hall to Scott's bedroom, the door standing wide open. "Are you okay?" I heard Scott ask, fear and worry filling his voice.

I peered into his room to see mom slumped on the floor, her hand loose around her neck as if something had just been choking her. Scott knelt beside her, eyes vigilant. "I don't know what's happening. I don't know what that thing is or even what you and Evie are, but whatever he wants, just give it to him." Mom insisted. I watched from the doorway, unmoving as I waited to see if they noticed me. "Mom, it's not that easy." Scott insisted softly. "Do what he wants. Just give him what he wants." She pleaded with him, her eyes full of fear. "I don't know if I can." Scott told her, shaking his head.

Just then, my mom's eyes landed on me in the doorway. "Evelyn Mae, you have to give it to him." she insisted, scrambling to her feet. "Give him what he wants." She snapped, grabbing my upper arms and shaking me slightly. I was utterly confused and kind of terrified. "I don't know what you're talking about. What who wants?" I asked her, my gaze flickering between Scott and our mom. "What the hell happened?" I asked them. Mom just shook her head, looking like she was on the verge of tears. She pulled away from me before heading out of the room, hand still rubbing gently at her neck. I watched her retreat down the hall before turning to Scott, waiting for an explanation.

"Gerard was here – with Jackson." He told me. My eyes shot wide at this. "Gerard is in control of it now?" I asked him, earning a grim nod. "Well, what was he doing here? What does he want?" I asked, fearing the worst almost happened to my mother. "He wants Derek and his pack, Eve. He wants revenge for Kate." Scott told me, shaking his head as sorrow filled his eyes. "Well, how does he expect you to know where they are?" I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest. "He told me to get it out of you because you and Derek are so close." He told me with a heavy sigh. "Scott, I've been staying at Derek's loft but I was the only one there. Derek disappeared after that night. He's only even been calling me from a prepaid cell. I can't get to him any more than you can." I insisted, trying to ignore the look of doubt in my baby brother's eyes.