Well, it has been awhile hasn't it? A lot of stuff has happened in my life, mainly bad and terrible things and just I wasn't up to writing and I managed to churn out this little chapter it is not much but I thought I had made you all wait too much.

This is unedited which brings me to the next point and it will be soon, eventually. Whenever.

An Alpha's Trust

Chapter 18: Nothing can be Regained

The forest is devoid of the presence of humans, insects skitter on the woodland floor and the forest is alive. The sounds of heartbeats of an uncountable number of creatures resound, the opening and closing of wings, to the sounds of exoskeletons that as they move their casings scratch with their movement and fill the silence. The curious chirps and the burrowing of dens fill his ears. The sun has slowly started to descend down on the horizon but still there is light so that from where he is sitting under the umbrella that fan out over him of leaves beams of light filter through. The old withered bark is rough and digs into his spine and each knot and bump indents itself into his flesh and against the knobs of his spine. His hands are loosely folded him his lap and his eyes are closed, there is no peace, peace is a word that he will never have but today is the closest he will ever be. The wind cards itself through his hair, through the strands, a ruffle almost of a ghostly hand that no longer exists.

"Do you remember this tree?"

"I do."

His lips turned upwards, no malice or dark taint in the lines around his face. "We spent many summers in our forest learning how to shift, how to control. We learned in this forest, our forest what it meant to be werewolves, what it meant to be something more."

"And human, you always seem to forget that, don't you?"

"Humanity is flawed."

"So are you."

Peter opened his eyes and looked over at the figure. She sat away from him in the open field where nothing overhead blocked the light and the sun warms her bare shoulders. Her legs folded underneath her covered by her long dark dress, the wind blew casting the hair that hung over her shoulders to blow cover her face, wisps of the blackest obsidian hid her face. Peter's eyebrow rose. "So biting aren't you?"

The wind died and her hair tumbled down and her face became once more visible. The amusement crinkled in the corner her eyes. "It's in my nature." She smiled with fangs and her eyes flashed for a second.

"That was a terrible joke. Horrible, really. Why do you even try? You were never funny even when we kids."

"Says the one with his foot in his mouth."

Peter smirked. "Really, if there was one thing in my mouth it definitely was not my foot."

The eye roll he receives is fond and it causes his smile to widen. "Still disgusting I see." She pauses and her eyes focus on him, the gaze assessing and calculating. "Why am I here, Peter?"

"I thought I'd tell you about your son."

Her smile is small and indulgent but there is a softness in her eyes that stopped existing many years ago, burned away and turned into ashes."What about Derek?"

Peter has to collect his thoughts get rid of the wisp of misery, remorse, longing and ache so he doesn't lose himself. "He is changing now. He's not the same Derek as was, before or after the fire it's more of a mix with something different, something else." He has to pause try to figure out how to fit everything he wants to say, everything he wants to reveal, but it is difficult, so difficult. It has been many years since he has spoken to anyone like this, has spoken to someone without intending it to hurt and bite."It's not complete. It's a metamorphosis in process whether it's good or bad depends entirely on him, whether he has the strength to at least let go of what he forces himself to carry but he's starting to understand his role, his pack, the flaws they have and he has and trying to do something. He's moving, slowly and the course is unclear but there is change. I thought you would like that, to know."

The thin lips spread even wider."I never doubted he would move, Peter. What I feared was how he'd come out at the end of it. Of what he would become. Derek's heart was much more fragile, much more pure, and because that, it shattered and the pieces will never fit again. There is a void in my son that will never be filled..." Her smile dropped and she no longer looks at Peter, instead her gaze wanders to the sky, and she leans on her hands her head tilted up to let the last bits of the sun soak into her face. "How are you, Peter?" she questions softly barely a movement of her lips.

A furry of leaves fall and his attention diverts from her and his eyes watch the tumble in the air, his mind trails after it, slipping and plummeting with the fall.

"—ter?"

The leaves slowly waltz to the ground and lay there only the wind gently trying to pick the leaves up again. As he watches his mind wanders and the memories force their way through the cracks, unused and sealed they overflow and drip down around the boarded up frames around his mind. At first there is nothing but a hazy silence and blankness but then there is a soft laughter. Fond and beautiful in his ears, so indistinguishable if he hadn't thirsted for the sound spent years listening to it in the winds and in the silence. It was the first thing he had fallen in love with when he had met her, it was never anything but joy and warmth that washed over him he craved the sound of her laughter and so many other things. The touch of her fingers, the softness of her skin, the dimples of her smile and her voice when she sometimes thought he was asleep and couldn't hear her talk to their baby, the way her fingers would brush his hair back and kiss his forehead before he woke. Fingertips lightly touch his bottom lip and there is a faint whisper of a kiss on the corner of his mouth and a smile presses itself there. And the laughter rings again, swirls around him and drifts up.

"—?"

His eyes tilt upwards to follow the sound and they stray to the branches that web over him. He had wanted to put a swing under the tree; it was going to be a surprise for her. For everyone, for Derek and Laura, they would have loved it, would have pushed Cora on it and all of their little cousins. He had planned to put up the swing in the summer so their giddy and high pitched laughter would reach the house, and then in following months a new voice was going to join in the small little symphony that engrained itself in every little pore of the land. Would the laughter of his baby ring out as his wife's did? So many questions run against the walls of skull, beating against the bone when he's not careful, when he can't block out everything.

"Peter?" He glanced back up. She frowned, a little tug at the corner of her mouth. "What are you thinking about?"

"Things that lost their meaning a long time ago. Did you ask me something?" he diverted.

"They haven't lost their meaning if you still think about them."

Peter let out an amused chuckle. "Oh, they have because they don't matter anymore. Stopped mattering when everything went up in scorching flames and I became...something more."

"Even her?" Peter dug his nails into the dry earth, all though she doesn't elaborate who she is questioning about it is clear what she asks, clear there at the trail her sentence leads. "There is no reason to hide from me, no reason to force yourself to push and lock the memories away. Peter, it's okay to remember her and many other things. Nobody is asking you to give up so much, nobody is asking you to deprive yourself."

"I'm not doing any of that." He smirked. "I'm not one to deprive myself, I'm more of the kind to indulge in finer things, over indulge if you will the one that problem is your son. He's rather masochistic about it but never mind that, we can discuss Derek's imperfections at a later date. You asked me a question, what was it?"

She allows him to change the subject."How are you Peter?"

"You mean other than slightly mentally unhinged?"

The frown lessens and her eyes aren't as guarded and cautious anymore and her lips turn upwards. "You were always slightly mentally unhinged, Peter."

The smile is razor-sharp. "What can I say, it works for me. I would say it's the reason why I'm doing so well recently and it's just going to get better. So much better."

"Nobody is asking you to do anything."

"I never said anyone was. I'm a very selfish creature my dear sister all of what I do is for myself."

Her eyes search his for something long lost and extinguished. "Is repentance what you seek?"

"And what is it that I have to repentant?" he questions as he smirks.

"Don't play this game with me Peter you'll lose. We are both aware of all the things you repent and the things that will not allow you peace. That batter against the walls of your soul and mind. You have many things to repent for Peter that will not leave you."

"Repentance requires a soul I gave mine up a very long time ago." His eyes trail the birds as they fly over the horizon.

"Peter‒"

"Did you know that my dreams have more bloodshed than my nightmares?" he says quietly far off his mind else as he speaks. "It flows and rains, everything is red, such a dark bleeding red. But that is where my peace lies, that is where all of our peace lies and I will deliver us to that plane." His eyes lower back down to her.

She's silent but there is such sadness and remorse. "Peter what are you planning?"

"Oh, wonderful things." There is a feral wild in his eyes, untamed and filled with malice. "Wonderful glorious things, Talia," he says quietly as he leans back and closes his eyes a haunting smile painted on his face.

-.-.-.-.-.-

There's a little nick to the ear that is crudely repaired with black string that runs diagonal from the tip to the bottom with jagged and unevenly stitching. The eyes have lost the once lustrous shine, scuffed and scratched through the years from dragging on the floor behind a little girl that took him everywhere. The bear is a soft light brown of dry earth, with only a circle area of white around the stomach, tied tightly around the neck is a red tattered ribbon, frayed on the right side. His hands finger the stitch and there is a quirk of small smile. It's a terrible piece of work but she had smiled with such awe when he had finished and hugged the bear tightly and then she had helped to bandage his pricked finger and kissed the bruise to make it heal faster and to take away the pain. There is a distant resonance in his eyes, clouded with misery and despair, his shoulders slump inwards curving his spine dejectedly.

There is very little light that comes through from the closed drapes but the room all though it has be uninhabitated and desolate for many years is spotless because he refuses to let go one of the only things he has left. The ghost of what life was the ghosts of her. The room is frozen, a preservation of a time that has long passed and ceased to exist, but he is allowed to hold on, he is allowed to have this even if he can't have his daughter. It doesn't lessen the pain or fill the void or the vast wretchedness that grips its icy and cruel fingers around his heart.

The light lavender painted walls and the single bed is perfectly made with the light blue comforter that has not be moved for many years, but then again nothing has been moved in many years. There is a dresser near the window piled with all the teddy bears and toys she had start to outgrow that stay unmoving and stagnate, next to it there are pictures from a time where life was lighter, freer not so tainted and sinned. Where happiness had freely bloomed it was not perfect by any means, but they had tried and she had been happy, would smile sweetly, and laughs and squeals of delight that would ring through the house. In a corner, on the parallel wall to the dresser is a brimming bookcase filled with books that he had read, nestled on the too small bed with her head on his shoulder as her little curious and bright eyes and mouth followed the words. Sometimes there were nights when she refused to let him leave without more stories and he'd end up sleeping with her. The book long forgotten and her head buried in his chest as his arms clutched her close, he'd always wake up with a sore back, a damp chest and stiff neck but when he'd glance down and see her. The little jumps of her chest and her open mouth as she slept there would be nothing else. Sometimes he'd tickle her nose and just to watch her sneeze and blearily open her eyes to stare up at him, she'd scowl childishly and drop her head back down on his chest and sleep once more and refused to move until he tickled her stomach and made her giggle. Near the door next to the closet is a study desk piled with unfinished homework and stray pencils.

The pain and ache grow the longer he stays but he can't bring himself to leave. He never can. There's a silent quake near his knee and he wraps his fingers loosely around his phone and lets his thumb swipe at the screen.

Portal Start Time: 5 P.M.

Area: The Woods

He pockets the phone and gently lays the bear back on the bed and slowly stands up casting one more look around room. He scrubs his eyes wearily and locks up all the grief and despair tightly, the child he clings to has grown, the Allison that exists now is vastly different how would she have grown if he had stopped her? Would she have been better or worse if she had stayed? Useless questions that buzz and sting, nothing can be changed and nothing be regained.

His phone rattles in his pocket insistently. That's right the only thing he has left is his title at the very least he can protect something. Do something that lessen the burden and weight of his soul even if it makes no difference there is some solace in it not matter how morbid it is. He grabs his discarded gear and steps out of the room zipping up his jacket and snapping everything into place. He takes in a steady breath of air and leaves.

I've missed each and everyone of you guys, so it'll be great to hear from you guys. : 3